


Between A Rock and A Hard Place

by LFB72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Merlin, Bromance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4553025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visiting noble makes Arthur an offer he can't refuse, putting Merlin's secret in jeopardy. The warlock takes drastic action, risking his health and ability to respond when crisis strikes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Chapter 1: Fortis Vero:

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.
> 
> This is set after season 4 but before season 5. It is a multi-chapter story.
> 
> I would like to thank the very talented Caldera32 for being my Beta, providing support, and completing the wonderful cover art.
> 
> Feedback is always very welcome, please let me know what you think. I hope you will like it.

 

[](https://imgur.com/JYNS3bC) 

Prologue: Chapter 1: Fortis Vero:

 

 

_Day 10_

There was definitely something wrong with Merlin, of that he was certain. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and let the sounds of the council meeting fade into the background. The royal and servant usually shared a private joke under these circumstances; sometimes it was the only thing that got Arthur through the dreary meetings. However, no sarcastic gestures or sympathetic smiles graced Merlin's features today, or in the many before it. His face was a stony mask, appearing alien on a man who was usually so irksomely cheery.

The monarch looked around the grand room trying to catch the eye of his servant. The lanky man was ignoring him completely, in a world of his own. Merlin was staring so intently that Arthur found himself following his gaze, though the king could find nothing to warrant such interest in an old wooden door. Arthur brought his mind back into the conversation going on around him – something about crop yields and provisions for the winter - but his concentration would not hold and he found his thoughts working their way back to the wan, waif-like figure of his friend.  _Has Merlin lost more weight? He looks terrible._

There was no denying his servant had always been a bit odd - an enigma of sorts - but over the last week or so he'd become surly, secretive, and downright distracted. The king had been watching closely and he'd not missed the slight stiffness and occasional tremor in Merlin's movements, the grimace when he rubbed at his temples or the way he furiously scratched at his skin when he thought no one was looking. Arthur had seen it all and he did not like it. The king was concerned but would never admit it, could never let it show. He needed Merlin, especially at times like these – a fact he was equally unlikely to confess.

The kingdom was in total turmoil with the curfews, midnight searches, and general suspicion hanging over the castle. A good night's sleep seemed a distant memory; he told Guinevere to keep a dagger on her person at all times (which she objected too) and the knights were restless. Usually, when faced with such challenges, his servant was optimistic and would be the one to rally the royal, providing inexplicable words of wisdom. This time, his servant's free flowing mouth had failed him and become stagnant. Arthur felt the loss too, both of his friendship and his council.

Arthur had ordered the knights to be on the defensive; the castle was searched repeatedly for the elusive sorcerer who'd attacked Merlin and disappeared. Crisis meetings were held and the kingdom put on high alert, ready and waiting for an attack that was yet to materialise. Ten days of waiting, taut as a bowstring - it was a state that could not be maintained indefinitely and the fatigue was starting to take its toll on everyone - especially Merlin. There was nothing else but to wait it out.

When that sorcerer tried to come back into the kingdom Arthur would know instantly; there would be no hiding, no escape. He had the means to detect sorcerers and the power to destroy them - it was just a matter of time. Ten days since the last sighting, seven since the last time magic was used; he knew it would not be long. He was a hunter and he would catch his prey.

* * *

Merlin just had to hold on a little longer and then everything would be alright. If he could only find the will to wait it out, then maybe things could go back to normal. Perhaps he should have just left, runaway as Gaius had originally suggested, yet he knew in his heart that he could have never turned his back on Arthur - no matter what the cost to himself. Granted, he'd done a foolish thing, but he'd seen no alternative. He was paying the price for that decision now and it was higher than he could have imagined. He wished he could discuss it with his mentor, but Gaius was gone. It was too late; he just had to keep going. Ten days he'd endured and no one had become suspicious.

_Don't give in, you're almost there._ The warlock focused on the large oak doors in front of him. With great effort he took in every detail; the grain, imperfections and scars in the timber, the hinges and handles, anything to take his mind off his pounding head and the relentless itching that made him want to claw at his flesh and rip it from his bones.

Moisture was beginning to build along Merlin's hairline; droplets of perspiration trickled down his face and clung to the high contours of his cheeks. Sweat pooled under Merlin's arms and in-between his shoulder blades, making the thin fabric of his shirt stick to his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus, but could feel himself sway, so forced his eyes open and blinked furiously. He studied the door again, intending to pick out the damage caused by swords. Instead the warlock imagined himself blasting the damn thing off its hinges, sprinting down the corridor and away from the oppressive room, its occupants, and that malevolent thing.

Thinking about using his magic only brought it to the fore, to the extent the warlock wondered if the build-up of gold coursing through his body would now be visible in the same way his veins were. His magic flowed with such force it was like a river about to break its banks – the pressure was immense and he couldn't stand it any longer.

Merlin bit his lip, drawing blood, and dug his fingernails into his palms.  _What happens if I just give in, scratch and tear at the scabs on my arms?_  His gift was so close to the surface it felt like it would explode out of him, making its way through the gaps in his skin – the thought was absurd.  _Will I light up the room like a lantern?_ What a way to be discovered - for his king to see his secret. Dense as the royal could be at times, some things could not be ignored _; if I became as bright as the sun, beams shooting from my body – Arthur would definitely notice that!_

Merlin let out a hysterical snort and covered his mouth in the vain hope the faux pas would be missed. He failed to see the response the outburst caused: Gwen's obvious unease and look of concern, Gwaine's grimace, or the furious glare his king shot him. Tears formed in the warlock's eyes and he bit down hard on a knuckle to trying to stifle a snigger. A human torch – blazing bright and burning... _burning like a sorcerer on a stake._

It wasn't funny anymore. He was too hot, could almost feel the flames and his breath became ragged as he tried to suck air that was too thin into needy lungs. The beads that clinged to and streaked his cheeks were no longer in mirth. Merlin scanned the room for an escape but the exit had morphed into a tall pyre stacked with logs and tinder - ready and waiting. _Can't breathe; have to get out._ He searched for another way to flee; even the high windows looked appealing. His gaze finally fell on his king; cool slate irises met deep blue and the air stilled between them - then Arthur pointedly ran two fingers across his throat.

Merlin stared, open-mouthed and terrified. Deep-seated fears sprang to the surface of his mind; Arthur's reaction signalled only one thing - his execution.

He ran, moved like his life depended on it, all obstacles pushed blindly out of the way in his frenzy to reach the door. It wasn't a conscious decision; his body just took charge of a situation his brain could not.  _Must get out._  That thought carried him down the corridor and out the castle.

If the warlock expected to find sanctuary, he was mistaken. Only trouble and heartache lay ahead. Merlin was beyond caring, all caution and reason lost, his mind focused on one goal - escape.

* * *

So, what do you think?

 


	2. A Noble Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Arthur is presented with an interesting proposition that will be disastrous for Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this next instalment, it goes back to the beginning and explains some of the events of the prologue - please let me know what you think.

 

Chapter 2: A Noble Calls

_Day one:_

Merlin had to hold onto the wall to steady himself; the dizziness only lasted a moment so the warlock was not as worried as he should be. He thought the loss of stability was merely a result of coming into a dark castle after being outside in bright sunshine. He had more pressing concerns - he was very late. The servant ran down the corridor, feet slapping painfully against the stone floor. He rounded a corner and started taking the staircase two steps at a time but his jacket pocket caught on the banister and he only made three strides before being catapulted backwards, accompanied by the sound of ripping fabric. After making a graceless arc through the air he landed hard in an undignified heap, a sharp sting to his buttocks only adding to his misery.

The world tilted slightly when he got up, but he dismissed it, dusting himself down and knocking over a precious vase in the process. He saved the heirloom with a hint of gold and flick of his lashes, sorting out his own clothes at the same time. Merlin should have been surprised at the aching and sudden tiredness using his magic brought but was too busy to give the phenomena the thought it deserved. The warlock cursed; Arthur was going to be mad. Merlin considered slinking off altogether, thereby avoiding the wrath of the royal, only he couldn't because the king had insisted he be present for the noble's visit. He let out a heavy sigh, ready to tackle the imposing staircase once again.

* * *

At this rate, the king of Camelot would be serving his own guests. Arthur drummed his fingers on the ornate armrest and thought about what objects he could launch at his tardy servant if the man ever arrived. He put such irritations aside, schooled his features into a suitably engaging expression, and waited for the final guest to come forward. Lord Kane approached the throne; he was of average height and build with short brown hair – the noble had no defining features or majesty. However, what he lacked in physical presence, he more than made up for in fancy gestures and fine if not slightly dated attire.

The man had specifically requested an audience with the king, stating that he had something the monarch would find of great value. He clutched a small wooden box to his chest, eyes bright and eager.

Arthur suddenly felt on edge and glanced around the room at the others present. Everyone looked at ease, nevertheless the royal's fingers inched closer to his sword and he checked the position of the other knights.

Lord Kane gave a small bow. "Your Highness, may I present the Veritas Saxum." After some fanfare the noble flicked the lid of the box, revealing an unremarkable black stone nestled in red satin.

Silence.

The king drew a breath.  _Was this supposed to be significant?_  "Veritas Saxum?" He repeated.

"Yes Sire, your father had one. I thought you would be familiar with its history." Kane's frown only lasted for a second but the king did not miss it.

Arthur looked towards Gaius, raising his eyebrows.

"The truth stone was presented to King Uther to aid in the war against sorcery, Sire; it was instrumental in the capture of the great dragon." The physician paused and seemed to debate whether to continue."The stone can detect and absorb magic. The dragon destroyed it, but had been sufficiently weakened as to be easily incarcerated. It was thought to be the only one in existence."

Kane gave a small nod. "I believe this stone is just as effective as the one my father had."

"How is your father?" Arthur inquired, at a loss as to what else to say whilst he gathered his thoughts.

"He's dead," The noble said flatly. "He died some years ago and I have continued his work based on his memoirs." Kane continued solemnly.

Arthur was not convinced this was something he wanted but could not deny he was tempted. However, the object's origins were just too close to magic - a fact that unsettled the royal no end. _Magic has no place in Camelot – it has caused nothing but pain and loss._

Despite regular attacks on his kingdom he'd survived and was victorious. He knew his father would have jumped at the chance to use the stone to hunt and eradicate all forms of magic, but Arthur was not his father - he did not believe in provoking a battle. Of course, he would retaliate if attacked but he wouldn't go looking for it. Dragons no longer existed and Morgana had been defeated so Arthur decided to decline the noble's offer.

At that moment, the innocuous looking crystal began to glow. He noticed an ominous blue haze within the black stone.

"What's happening," he said, pointing to the wooden box with some uncertainty.

Lord Kane looked down, then beamed at the king. "It has detected the use of magic!"

The stone became brighter. Rays of light radiated from it, as fierce as ten torches, forcing Arthur to shield his eyes.

"What is the meaning of this? The king snarled.

The noble was ecstatic. "A sure sign of magic being performed at close proximity, Sire. Such a display, an unprecedented force, it can only be caused by the presence of a High Priest or Priestess of the Old Religion," the lord warned.

Arthur slammed his fist into the table as all hell broke loose.

"Guards!"

* * *

He was out of breath by the time the double doors of the grand hall came into view. The gangly man stopped, bracing himself against his knees and taking great gasps to regain his breath before making an entrance.

It felt like ice creeping up his spine, tendrils spreading towards his lungs and heart. The strong presence of something magical – it was like a magnet drawing him forward and yet at the same time he wanted to runaway. His king was in that room –  _what if Arthur is in danger?_  Shouts came from inside and light streamed through the gap around the doors. Merlin ran, reaching for the handle but as soon as his hand made contact he was violently thrown backwards and slammed into the opposite wall.

There was a loud bang followed by orders given in haste. The back of his head and spine throbbed mercilessly, vision dipping in and out of focus in time with the thumping of his heart. From his vantage point on the floor, all Merlin saw was a mass of stomping feet kicking up dust, but he'd lost consciousness before the herd had even passed.

"Merlin?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Merlin, wake up."

The servant struggled to get his bearing as his vision slowly cleared and he looked into earnest brown eyes framed with dark wavy hair.

The figure looked concerned as he flicked away his long fringe. "Are you alright?" he demanded, giving the younger man a gentle shake.

"Gwaine?" The servant croaked, head still foggy.

The knight allowed himself a small smile before continuing with the task at hand. "Who was it? Where did they go?"

"What?" Merlin blinked several times; he felt disorientated, "Who?"

"The sorcerer - the one that tried to attack the king!"

The warlock just stared opened-mouthed and dumbfounded; he did not even register being pulled onto his feet.

"Arthur! Is he alright?"

Gwaine smiled softly, "You're the one that got hit on the head, Merlin. Arthur's fine." The rugged knight looked around for the physician. "Gaius!" He supported the younger man around the waist, taking his arm by the wrist so it was slung over his shoulder, and steered the servant towards the council rooms. "Gaius, I think Merlin's hurt - maybe a concussion."

Merlin wanted to vomit as a wave of nausea hit. He took in a sharp breath and tripped only to be hauled upright. Gaius appeared, barring the doorway.

The physician took one look at Merlin and sprang into action. "Quickly, Gwaine, I need to take him to my quarters."

He helped to support Merlin's weight, then the two men negotiated the steep steps with the stumbling servant. Once on level ground the pressure eased and Merlin seemed to find his feet and become more alert.

Gaius dismissed the knight. "I can manage now, Sir Gwaine. Please tell the king I will meet him in the vaults after I have seen to my patient. You may resume your search."

The knight looked hesitant for a moment. "Will he be alright?"

"I suspect so; I just need to get him back so I can check."

Gwaine bit his lip then nodded reluctantly. "I'll find who did this and make them pay," then he sprinted off.

The physician started marching at a surprisingly sprightly pace for one advancing in years, dragging his ward with him. As soon as they were a fair distance from the throne room the warlock started to feel a bit better.

"What's going on, Gaius?"

"Shush, I'll tell you soon enough, keep moving."

Merlin knew not to argue; he kept his head down and allowed himself to be led back to his bed.

Guards and knights charged up and down the corridor; the whole castle was in an uproar and then the warning bell clanged.

"Arthur!" The warlock made an attempt to bolt but was forcibly held back by a gnarled hand.

"No, Merlin. Arthur is fine; you on the other hand won't be unless we can get you back to your room." The pair began moving again and did not stop until they reached the physician's quarters.

* * *

"Take this," Gaius thrust a bottle at his ward so violently the viscous liquid spilled over the top. The physician waited until his ward's mouth was full before he continued."Merlin, you need to pack a bag and leave now."

The warlock's eye's bulged as he fought to contain the noxious concoction and not spray it over his mentor. "What?" he squeaked.

"It's not safe here; you must get out of Camelot." Gaius was busy picking up items belonging to his ward and stuffing them into a satchel. "I know you feel it."

Merlin paled, grabbing at his dark locks. "I don't understand... what's going on...does he, does Arthur know?"

"No, not yet, but it's only a matter of time." The physician let out a frustrated sigh. "The noble, Lord Kane, has brought a stone into the kingdom that detects and retains magic. Even as we speak the castle is being searched for a sorcerer- a High Priest or Priestess that the king believes was after the crown but attacked you."

"No one attacked me," Merlin stated, his head was spinning and nothing made sense, "but I felt magic..."

"That crystal generated a blinding light. I fear that was in response to you, Merlin." The physician was grave. "The strong force you felt was the stone reacting to your magic - draining you. The king will know of any magical presence and more importantly he will soon discover your secret if you stay."

Merlin shook his head and immediately regretted the action. "But if I run, won't that be suspicious? Besides, I cannot leave. Not all that seek to destroy Arthur are magical - you know that."

"Please, Merlin."

"No Gaius, it's my destiny - don't you care?"

"I care about your life, which is more important!" Gaius pronounced, raising his voice and waving a shirt at his ward. "Even if you have no regard for it," he added sadly, letting his arms drop to his sides.

"Wait, what about you – are you in danger?"

"I don't think so; I seldom practice and my magic is weak... "

"That's it!" The warlock interrupted, exuberant. He stood, but a bout of dizziness made him sit down. "Why did I not think of this before? I won't use my magic!"

The physician looked ashen. "That would work for someone like me, but not you, you're not just powerful _– you are magic._  I can tell that the stone is affecting you even now."

The warlock could not deny it but was not deterred. "There must be a way to bind my magic somehow – temporarily?" He looked up hopefully.

The old man hesitated, just enough for the warlock to sense there was something he wasn't being told.

Gaius shook his head, "No Merlin, it's too dangerous."

"But, there is a way?"

There was no response.

"Gaius?"

"Yes, Merlin," the physician snapped, "there might be, but it will cause you a lot of pain and... it won't be easy..." Gaius threw his arms up in the air, then sat on the bed next to his ward. Letting out a sigh, he looked at his surrogate son. "I can't persuade you to leave?"

"You know I can't." The young man replied, shaking his head.

"Merlin, even if we could bind your magic - and it is not a safe procedure – you would be very vulnerable without it."

"Vulnerable, or useless?" The warlock bit out; his mentor had hit a nerve.

The old man reached for his ward's shoulder. "I did not mean..."

Merlin shrugged off Gaius' hand. It was clear he did not want to pursue the matter. He pushed the conversation on. "If the stone does nothing for a few days then maybe this lord will just go." He did not really believe that but a desperate man clutches at anything. "I can't leave; we know nothing about this noble - what if he means to hurt Arthur?"

"We don't know that, Merlin. Camelot's views on magic are no secret; he may genuinely want to help the king."

The warlock snorted. "When has anyone only wanted to help? There is always an agenda and I want to find out what it is."

"You won't listen to reason?"

His ward merely shook his head and crossed his arms.

"Very well; so be it."

In truth, much as he'd tried to avoid it, Gaius knew it might come to this - which was why he'd arranged to meet the king in the vaults. Intelligent and brilliant as he knew Merlin could be, his ward was also foolish and rash. It was that impulsiveness that got him into trouble. At least this way Gaius might be able to counter the effects and monitor it somehow, perhaps long enough for the danger to pass. If he did not, there was no telling what his ward would do - what danger he would get himself into.

He'd seriously considered drugging his ward and dragging him into the forest for Kilgharrah to find, but that would never work - he was too old for such antics, his joints would not stand for it, plus Merlin would no doubt find his way back. No, this was the only alternative.

The physician stood up. "You need to stay here, Merlin. Do not move," he raised an eyebrow in warning. "Wait for me to return, don't try anything, and under no circumstances attempt any magic."

The warlock nodded, looking up at his mentor through his dark fringe. "Thanks, Gaius – I won't let you down."

The physician was struck with how young his ward looked. "I hope not," he sighed, turning to go out the door.

Gaius stalked down the corridor. He had not explained to Merlin just how difficult and dangerous it would be to acquire the item they needed. Merlin had no idea what he was getting himself into and if he were honest, the physician was not sure how he would react either - given his ward's unique talents. Chances were it would not be good. Gaius was also putting himself at risk – if he got caught the consequences would be dire for all of them. He tried to push those thoughts aside; some things were worth the danger. He would do it for Merlin.

* * *

**Veritas Saxum, Latin for Truth Stone**

**So, thoughts and theories?**

 


	3. The love that binds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for the sorcerer begins.

Chapter 3 The Love That Binds

_Day one, late evening:_

_What I do today, I do for Merlin._  The mantra played incessantly as Gaius moved swiftly down the corridor towards his chambers. The physician let his hand brush against the rough fabric of the long robe, making sure the item was secure in his pocket. He quickened his pace, adrenalin pumping through his veins and heightening his senses.  _I'm too old for this._  His heart was not what it once was yet there was a part of him that welcomed the thrill of it all. In the past he'd risked his life on numerous occasions helping innocent magic users escape - and all under the vigilant gaze of Uther. This time, the one he protected would remain in the centre of the storm but the eye would not see.

Some of his kind considered him a traitor for staying loyal to a tyrant king but Gaius had saved many more lives in his own way, using his intellect and knowledge to help calm and redirect the volatile monarch whenever he could. After Ygraine's death Uther was inconsolable, couldn't even bear to look at or hold his own child; Gaius did his best to support the grieving man and cared for a young prince who had effectively lost both parents. Later, when things got difficult, he could not find it in his conscience to leave. The physician had to believe his presence in the castle had achieved more than running away would have, even if his head did run the risk of being separated from his shoulders at times.

To go behind Arthur's back like this felt a little underhanded, but it was a necessary means to an end. The physician had suggested the intruder may have wanted something from the vaults, forcing Arthur to complete an inventory. All treasures were accounted for and no one noticed the physician slip the velvet pouch up his sleeve as he left. Gaius would find a way to return the item when the time came, of course – at least that's what he told himself.

Twenty years had passed since the last time it had been used and he'd hoped no one would be subjected to it ever again. The old man let out a derisive snort; how ironic that after all this time he would be the one to steal the barbaric thing so its power could be inflicted upon someone he cared deeply for. He could never have predicted it, but then he could never have imagined the anger and bitterness that had consumed and corrupted a good king. A rage so fierce it had resulted in the purge – effectively leading to today's events.

He'd seen it all before, no matter how the noble dressed it up, Kane was a witch finder. The presence of such always ended the same way: suspicion, panic, accusations and finger-pointing; all until someone was found accountable. It brought out the very worst in people; false claims, an opportunity to settle old scores and win favour, it did not matter. In Uther's reign an execution would be the only way to halt the hysteria. Arthur was a better man, yet there would be no peace without some form of resolution. Gaius knew the culprit and it was his job to make sure he was never found.

The physician had only attained his white hair and wrinkled skin by being cautious; it was why he insisted Merlin kept his secret from Arthur no matter how much his young ward protested that perhaps his king should finally know the truth.

Gaius knew one could never predict the future with any certainty and therein lay the problem. Arthur Pendragon was, without doubt, an honourable and just man with a kind heart. Merlin had helped to shape a great ruler, but unfortunately no one is without flaws. Arthur was quick-tempered, stubborn, and proud - which gave him the potential and power to act in haste. The whole kingdom knew there was a sorcerer at large and, if discovered, Arthur would not only be beholden to his own beliefs but those of his people. This was Gaius' fear, that his ward would suffer because of an ill-informed decision made in the heat of the moment. That's why they had to go through with the plan - the alternative did not bear thinking about.

* * *

Gaius fished the velvet bag from its hiding place deep within his pocket and tentatively undid the ties to reveal the contents.

The warlock fought the impulse to vomit; it took a long time before he could find the words. "Will it hurt?" He finally said, gaze still fixed on the iron cuff with runes inlaid 'round the edge.

"Undoubtedly." The physician's hand trembled slightly as he held the band, blue fabric preventing contact with his skin. "I believe the effect will be cumulative; it will seal your magic in, preventing you from accessing your gift and, conversely, the stone from detecting it. For a sorcerer that loss is felt keenly, the lack of power and emptiness often driving them mad. For a warlock the magic is not gone, it will build and build with no means of escape until it becomes intolerable."

"What does that mean exactly, Gaius?"

The old man avoided the wide eyes of his ward. "Well, it shouldn't come to that." He held up a small key. "This will unlock the cuff. The removal of the band should be enough to release the excess magic. If you can do that, it will be far from pleasant but manageable." He could not begin to describe the horror it would be.

It was silent for a moment, then the physician spoke. "Of course, you'll have to be as far from the crystal as possible when you do take it off."

Merlin let out a long sigh. "I thought it would be something I drank." Why one of Gaius' foul concoctions should suddenly seem preferable to what lay in front of him, he didn't know - irony perhaps?

The physician put the cuff down and reached an arm 'round his ward's shoulder. "Those methods do exist, but they take preparation and time - neither of which we have. Besides, the dosage could prove difficult. Right now, this is the only sure way to bind your gift."

The warlock gave a nod and swiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Gaius got up and rummaged through the potion shelf, finally producing a bottle with purple liquid - the same one he'd given his ward earlier.

"Use this sparingly; it's very strong but will help with the pain." Gaius sighed. "You don't have to go through with this; you could still leave. I could tell Arthur your mother was sick..."

Merlin shook his head. "He'd insist on sending Gwaine with me."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"There are only so many times I can hear the story about the barmaid, the apple, and the candlestick." The dark-haired man shrugged and the corner of his mouth quirked but did not quite make it to a smile. He took in a deep breath and held out his arm. "No, Gaius, it's better this way. Let's just get on with it."

The physician nodded. He opened the cuff and aligned it with Merlin's forearm, just beneath the elbow. Gaius took a moment to look at the twitching muscles and the veins standing out in relief against the pale skin then snapped the clasp shut.

The warlock screamed.

* * *

Arthur had met up with Gwaine as they stalked through the castle. Lord Kane followed a short distance behind. The noble clasped the box tightly, holding it out in front so the blue glow lit up the corridor. He rotated his body side to side as if dowsing for water. They were approaching the physician's chambers and the light seemed to get brighter. The king quickened his pace.

There was a gut-wrenching scream.

"Merlin!" Gwaine's head shot up and he tore down the corridor.

Arthur launched himself forward.

"Your Highness!"

The king halted, one foot poised in mid-air. He turned to glare at Lord Kane. "Not now..."

The beam of light diminished until it winked out like a candle, once again becoming a plain rock – although not quite as opaque and dark as it had been.

"Merlin!" The king breathed.

* * *

The door banged against the wall as Gwaine charged forth, sword aloft.

"Merlin! Gaius!"

The knight's gaze darted from side to side but he saw nothing untoward. Silently he crept up the steps to his friend's room. Standing flush against the wall, he released the handle and let the door swing open - after a beat, he jumped inside.

Merlin was in the corner bent double nursing his arm with Gaius in front, shielding his ward.

"What's going on?"

Both men looked up, startled. Merlin's face was flushed and tear-stained, Gaius' serene. The physician was brandishing a length of lint and the younger man sported a thick bandage around his forearm.

"Hit my funny bone on the table and cut my arm," Merlin supplied in strained voice.

The knight looked between the two quizzically. "I thought someone had been murdered."

"The ulnar nerve wraps around the elbow and is very superficial; a blow to it can be exceptionally painful and debilitating." The physician added with a raised eyebrow. "I seem to remember you making a similar noise when I relocated your shoulder after a training injury."

Gwaine swallowed as the offending joint gave a twinge at the memory. The knight nodded in submission.

"As you can see, there is nothing here to be concerned about. You can put down that sword."

"The sorcerer is still close by," protested the knight, but a stern look from the physician made him slowly lower his weapon. "We followed the light from the stone, it got brighter and then I heard…and thought..." Gwaine trailed off and gave an apologetic palms open gesture.

The physician stepped towards the knight, making a shooing motion. "Well, I thank you for coming to our aid, but it's been a very long day and Merlin could -"

"Actually, Gaius, we were on our way to your chambers anyway. There is something the king wishes to discuss with you."

The old man stopped mid-stride."Oh, I see. Very well." Gaius straightened up and held his hands loosely in front of his robe looking expectant.

An uncomfortable quiet fell, allowing all to hear the approaching footfalls of the monarch.

Arthur rushed into the room and immediately stalled at the unusual sight of the three men, standing equal distance apart and staring at one another like a cat's committee. There was a bang and a grunt as Kane stopped himself slamming into the stationary royal. All four men then turned toward the flustered noble, who clutched the little box to his chest and looked embarrassed at nearly crashing into the king. Gaius broke the silence.

"Your Highness," he offered in way of greeting, followed by a respectful bow.

Arthur nodded in return and scanned the room's occupants, gaze resting on his servant. Relief flooded the royal at seeing the young man. He looked a little pasty and shaken, understandable after such an incident. The king clenched his fist in a resurgence of anger at all that had happened.  _Other people are always getting hurt because of me, because of magic._

"I heard a scream."

Merlin raised his hand sheepishly. "That was me; I tripped and whacked my elbow against the table."

Arthur gave a tut and rolled his eyes. Secretly he was relieved that's all it was – damn clumsy servant.

On another occasion Merlin may have been touched by the concern and would have teased the royal about it - not today. He pulled his sleeve over the bandage – terrified the magic-repressing cuff was somehow visible.

"I understand you did not get a look at the person who attacked you." Arthur stated in all seriousness.

"No, Sire." Merlin bit his lip and rubbed his fingers together.

The servant could not stop himself from staring at the man holding the closed box.  _So this is the noble?_  Usually when meeting someone for the first time Merlin would notice every detail, all the little nuances that others miss, but he barely registered Kane's features; his thoughts were totally consumed by that rock.

Realising Merlin's attention was elsewhere, Arthur gave a small cough.

"My apologies Lord Kane, this is my personal servant, Merlin. Please forgive his behaviour, he was hit on the head earlier. The sorcerer struck him trying to break into the throne room."

The royal's remarks shook Merlin out of his daze.

"My Lord." He gave a small bow and lowered his gaze - correct protocol for greeting a noble. "My mentor Gaius has told me of the precious stone you have brought into the kingdom." He was surprised by how steady his voice sounded.

The noble did not reply. Instead, his fingers began to fiddle with the clasp on the box.

Silence descended on the room.

Merlin's heart rate rose steeply and all moisture left his mouth. He hoped no one would notice the sweat beginning to bead on his brow, but all eyes were on the hunched figure of Kane. Finally, there was a small click as the lid was prized open.

Nothing happened. There was no glow from that ominous black stone, no pull on his magic. Merlin let out a sigh and visibly sagged.

Not being privy to what had happened in the corridor, Gwaine pointed at the box. "They're gone? Just like that?"

"Yes, Sir Gwaine, that's why they're called sorcerers," the king snapped.

"Should we call off the search?"

He shook his head. "We must be ready; double the guard. Lord Kane's device will alert us when the sorcerer returns." The king gestured in the direction of the noble for confirmation and Kane gave a small nod.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course it had been too much to hope that Merlin had seen his attacker. With no idea what the magic user looked like and the sorcerer being detected so close to Gaius's chambers it did not look good. The monarch was not left with much choice.

Respect for Gaius could not get in the way of his decision. He had to think about his people and what was right for the kingdom. It would be hard for Merlin – but this was for the best.

However, such a difficult thing demanded privacy.

"Gwaine, would you be kind enough to escort our guest to his chambers?"

It was not a request. Both noble and knight were a little perturbed at being asked to leave but knew better than to argue.

Once the two men had left, Gaius turned toward his ward. "Merlin, I need to speak to the king alone." The old man fixed the servant with a harsh stare. He did not want his ward to say anything he may regret later – it was safer if he were out the way. The old man gave Merlin a small squeeze to his shoulder and a sad smile before following the king out the door.

Arthur waited until he was certain they were out of earshot and then reluctantly began.

"Gaius, I've known you all my life and you have always been loyal to the crown. I thank you for that and for all you have done for me and the kingdom over the years." Arthur paused; this was harder than he thought it would be. Despite being the king, Gaius was one of the few men who could still intimidate him without even trying. Arthur swallowed, finding his resolve, and looked the physician in the eyes. "There is something I must ask you."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Anyone like to guess what is going to happen to Gaius?**


	4. Out of The Frying  Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get progressively worse for Merlin - it does not go unnoticed.

Chapter 4: Out of the Frying Pan

_Day 6:_

Three measly days, that was the grand total of how long he lasted. Emrys, the mighty warlock, supposedly the most powerful magic user ever to walk the earth and he could only withstand the cuff for seventy-two hours. Merlin had thought himself stronger than that, but everyone has their limits and Merlin was ashamed to admit his did not appear to be very high. Without his magic he was what he'd always feared – nothing.

Merlin could not ask his mentor for help, the man was not there; so Gaius could not tell his ward that the other High Priests and Priestesses to be subjected to the same torment succumbed in little over a day. Twenty-four hours saw them tearing at their flesh, hair, and eyes – driven mad by the submission and loss of their magic. Unable to endure the torture, some even chose to end their own lives before Uther or the manacle had the chance to. The warlock did not know that; he thought himself weak. He was wrong.

Merlin was slouched against a wall trying to summon the inclination to serve Arthur. His mind churned over all that had happened in the last few days. It had not taken long for the rumours and gossip to start: Gaius was in league with Morgana, the physician had never been trustworthy, and Arthur had the old sorcerer locked in the dungeons awaiting sentence.

Whispers in corners, crowds in the courtyard, talk of pyres and beheadings; the warlock tried to ignore it all but it would not go away. He let out a bitter laugh, wrapping his arms around his knees and letting his head rest on the bones –  _this is all my fault. A man's reputation and good name in tatters because of me_  – yet another person maimed in the name of destiny.

He let his head fall back against the stone wall, it stung as it hit the rough surface but it was a different pain to the one becoming his constant companion.  _I can't do anything right._ He thought about the botched attempt to free his magic. _'Keep a low profile and get away from the castle', Gaius said._ Merlin let out an audible snort and rubbed at his eyes.  _I only provoked the knights and guards with my stupidity._ He picked up a small stone and flicked it at a suit of armour that seemed to mock him.

The curfew was introduced on the third day, then the searches increased. Arthur's determination to flush out the sorcerer knew no bounds. The king had even given him a reassuring slap on the shoulder after he'd made the announcements - as if he thought the news would make the servant feel better.

Leaving the castle was increasingly difficult and without his gift Merlin could not dodge the sentries like he used to. He remained encased in the safety of the citadel's walls – a free prisoner, a clipped bird.

The drive to seek respite from the manacle had forced him into the cold bowels of the castle, the deep caverns where Kilgharrah had been held captive. At nightfall he'd crept down and unlocked the cuff, thinking he would be secure from detection in the dank, dark caves. Sinking to his knees he'd let words of power escape his lips as magic ripped forth from him. The release was so immense he'd seen cracks appear in the stone beneath his feet seconds before his body buckled and crashed down to meet them.

Sometime later he'd awoken to the sound of the warning bell, the magical restraint having to be replaced by his own hand. All he'd achieved was to increase the hunt for the elusive sorcerer tenfold  _\- all because of my lack of self control._

Merlin missed Gaius. He longed to hear his mentor's voice beit scorn, words of wisdom, or even soft snores as he slept. The room was just too quiet without him. Gaius was gone, and sitting around moping would not bring him back. The servant dragged himself up and forced his feet to take him to his master.

* * *

Arthur was finding it hard to concentrate; he'd gone over the same piece of text several times but had yet to make sense of it. He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the words in front of him, but it was hopeless. He'd been up late every night for nearly a week and was starting to pay for it. Daytime wasn't much better; the number of people requesting an audience with the king had increased dramatically and all their claims of witnessing magic had to be investigated. Unfortunately, none had been fruitful.

There'd already been a few accusations and skirmishes in the lower town. No one had acted of their own accord yet - but it was only a matter of time. In his address to the people, Arthur emphasised that everything was being done to protect against a threat. He stressed the increase in security and that only the crown could pass judgement. However, Gwaine and Percival patrolled the area as a precaution.

He hoped it would be over soon. The rock had been quiet for three days now, yet he could not shake the feeling the sorcerer was still around.

A loud thud and the sound of water sloshing over the edge of a bucket announced his servant's presence, forcing Arthur to look up from his papers.

"Merlin," he cautioned.

"What?" The young man turned, brandishing a scrubbing brush. "Do you know what they're saying about him?"

Arthur winced. "It was for the best. What's done is done."

Merlin's cheeks coloured and he fought to keep hold of his tongue. Just as Arthur thought he had won the argument the servant launched into a tirade.

"They say he made people sick on purpose so he would look clever and sell more potions!" Merlin's voice rose and he waved the brush, punctuating each of his points with violent gestures. "That he caused the drought, made stone gargoyles come to life, and tricked king Uther into losing his hair..." he paused for effect. "They even think he gave a noble donkey ears and made him bray!"

The king bristled. "You would do well to remember to whom you speak."

Merlin turned his head away, not trusting himself to say anything in response.

After a painful silence, Arthur realised he may have been a little harsh. "Gaius is a good man, Merlin, words cannot hurt him. He is treating the sick in Ailesbury; would you have them suffer?"

"No," Merlin falters.

They both knew the people of Ailesbury did not really need the physician; Gaius had even tried to argue that his ward should go in his place, but the king had insisted.

"Why did you have to send him away? It's like an admission of guilt; he can't even defend himself." The servant's shoulders dropped and he added wistfully, "I could... I would have looked out for him."

"You?" The king slapped his hands on the desk a little harder than he had intended. "Elyan is with him, one of my best knights. What could you do here? What protection could you possibly offer?"

The royal was angry. He did not have to explain himself! He'd already endured awkward questions from the council and now his servant was challenging him. He was the king; he answered to no one.

In truth he'd feared for the frail physician, knowing the mob could take matters into their own hands when there was talk of witchcraft. He couldn't take the risk, given Gaius' age and his association with magic.

Merlin looked pointedly at the royal. "You're right, Sire, I am but a helpless servant." He gave an exaggerated bow of submission but his eyes told a different story. He held the king's gaze for a moment and Arthur saw hurt, fatigue, and disappointment in those deep blue orbs.

"I..." Arthur struggled with what to say and how to make it better. Guinevere was better at this sort of thing, but she wasn't the one who had sent Gaius away.

Merlin dropped to his knees and began to scrub at the floor in earnest, ignoring all attempts to get his attention. Arthur rocked back on his chair and let out a sigh; he found surly Merlin difficult to handle.  _Who am I trying to fool?_ Of course words could wound -they could cripple, ruin a man, and even kill.

He thought back to when he'd just received his knighthood and was eager to show his worth. When a young woman was found badly beaten in the lower town, Uther had given his son the responsibility of investigating. Arthur had done his job thoroughly and well. The woman was known to give favours for money and there appeared to have been some sort of altercation over payment; witnesses had heard her arguing with three men. When the prince caught the culprits he'd been proud at solving the crime and earning his father's respect.

Gaius treated the woman; she remained unconscious but would likely recover in time. It had all seemed very straight forward, but at the trial the men claimed they had been spelled by an enchantress and attacked the witch in self-defence. That changed everything; Uther praised their bravery and set them free.

His father made him watch as she burnt at the stake. Black smoke and the acrid smell of charred flesh had filled the courtyard. The only blessing was she'd never woken up - not even when the flames licked her skin. Afterwards he was told magic lurked in many forms, preying on the unwary, and he would do well to remember the incident.  _How could I forget?_ It was the first time he'd doubted his father's convictions, thought that this great king might be wrong.

It wasn't that he doubted the danger of magic, rather that the woman had been guilty at all. Arthur believed all citizens deserved a fair trial. She had been the lowest of the low, with no one to refute the lies, and hadn't been able to speak for herself. At the mention of witchcraft the witnesses melted away – fearful of association. Maybe fate served its own justice; within a year all three men were dead - one in a bar fight, one hanged for thieving, and the third choked on vomit after too much wine.

With the constant attacks on the castle over the years and mounting evidence against magic, he'd let those values slip. He'd listened to the forked tongue of his uncle Agravaine and thrown aside all he knew about the physician, viewing Gaius with suspicion and even believing him a traitor. Merlin had protested his guardian's innocence and he'd been right. Gaius had been interrogated and abused by his captors but had remained loyal. After that, Arthur had sworn he would never doubt the physician again and would protect him as best he could.

Gaius was old and not as robust as he used to be; he had to been removed from any possible accusations or danger _._ Why couldn't Merlin see that?

The chair legs dropped to the floor with a bang and the king surveyed his servant. Merlin did not flinch; his hands clasped the brush tightly, arms working in tandem, into the bucket and onto the floor – back and forth hypnotically. Sweat dripped down the shafts of Merlin's hair and his shirt bunched between his shoulder blades, becoming darker as the fabric dampened with the exertion. Arthur could see muscle and sinew stretched taut through the thin tunic. Merlin had thrown himself into the task so ferociously the monarch feared for the safety of the old stone. Over and over the same spot the servant went, threatening to wear a hole in the floor.

"Merlin."

His words were not heard. More forcefully now.

"Merlin."

No response.

"Merlin, stop this."

Arthur grabbed the man's arm and was dragged along with the momentum until the knight's superior strength stopped the movement. Merlin looked up, his face flushed.

"What are you doing?"

The servant just stared back, wide-eyed and incredulous. "I'm cleaning your floor."

Arthur clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "When we find the sorcerer, Gaius will come back," he reassured gently.

"And when will that be?" The servant huffed, breaking away from the king's grasp and scratching at his arms. "What if you don't find them – is Gaius to be banished forever?"

"He's not banished!" The royal screeched. He let out a long breath, taking time to choose his words. "Perhaps...maybe, if there is still no activity after a week, no sign of threat, some of the precautions could be relaxed."

Merlin clawed at his tunic, pulling at the sleeves, relentlessly dragging his nails across raw flesh and leaving more angry marks.

"Will you stop! Damn it man, what's wrong with you? Have you caught something again?"

"What?" The servant paused as if unaware of what his digits had been doing, fingers curled mid-scratch. "That wasn't my fault - it was just one time – it's all gone, Gaius gave me a special ointment."

The king just stared as the servant babbled.

"What? What now?"

The king lifted a finger to point. "Your nose."

"What's wrong with my nose? You're always going on about my ears and now it's –"

"Bleeding,"

The servant stood stunned, cut off mid-rant.

"Your nose is bleeding."

The warlock brought a hand to his face and crimson dots danced on his fingers. He was struck by how bright it was – it almost glowed. He stood transfixed, twirling his fingers as yet more droplets showered the clean patch of stone and his tunic.

The older man prepared to grab the servant as Merlin swayed on his feet, then righted himself.

"You're not going to faint are you? Sit down."

The king waved his arm in the direction of a chair but had his head down hunting through the drawers of his desk, searching for something to stem the blood.

"This happens all the time in the field," he continued, not looking up.

Arthur was much happier solving problems practically; it was easier than talking. Give him a small crisis and he was in his element. Finally, his hand found some handkerchiefs.

"Here!" He said triumphantly - but their was no reply. "Merlin?"

The room was empty and Arthur wondered how a man who made more noise than a rampaging bull when they were out hunting could leave so silently. He looked at the trail of red dots the servant had left behind and could not shake the feeling that something more serious was wrong with Merlin than a simple nosebleed.

As Merlin sped through the corridor, hand clasped to his face, he was completely unaware he was being followed.

* * *

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shame on you who thought Arthur would be mean to Gaius! So, who do you think is following Merlin? Tell me your thoughts.


	5. It's getting very hot in here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine attempts to help a friend

Chapter 5 It's Getting Very Hot in Here

Day 6

Merlin charged into the chambers he shared with Gaius. His nose had stopped bleeding but he still had dried blood smeared all over the bottom half of his face. It was a startling sight but he had much more pressing concerns. Pulling out a stool to reach the high potion shelf, (the one with poisons, dangerous herbs, and strong medications) he clambered onto the unstable piece of furniture and started rummaging through the assortment of bottles. His long fingers trembled as they slid over the containers, discarding those of no use as he feverishly looked for one in particular. There, right at the back, he reached for the only thing that could temporarily ease the pounding headache and relentless itching. Securing the item in his palm, he stepped down but lost his footing and in doing so saw the precious bottle fly from his hand. Instinctively reaching for his magic he threw out an arm, hand splayed, but was immediately struck by searing pain that shot through his temple, blinding him to all else.

The expected fall and tinkle of broken glass did not happen. Reflexes honed through years of training caught the bottle deftly in one hand and steadied the shocked servant with the other.

"Easy now, Merlin," Gwaine exclaimed, "you don't want to hurt yourself." He pushed the stool backwards with his foot and manoeuvred the shaken man onto it.

"You okay?" His brown eyes crinkled in concern.

Merlin nodded while in reality he was anything but. The waxy complexion, crimson mouth, and hooded eyes all made him seem closer to a creature of the night than a hapless servant. At this close proximity he really did look awful and Gwaine told him so.

"What's going on, Merlin? You look like hell."

"It's just a nosebleed," the servant shrugged, clenching his fists.

"It's more than that."

The dark-haired man gave a pinched smile. "I'm fine," he answered in a clipped tone, reaching for the bottle Gwaine still clasped.

The rugged knight did not hand the bottle over, examining the label instead.

"This is pretty strong stuff," he challenged, as Merlin lurched for the potion once again.

When the servant's fingers made contact the knight did not relinquish the prize straight away. "Must be some nosebleed," he said as Merlin wrenched it out of his grasp, uncorked it with his teeth and took a large gulp.

Gwaine watched Merlin's Adam's apple bob up and down at least twice before he restrained his friend's wrist. "I think that's enough."

"I know what I'm doing, I'm the acting physician," Merlin responded tersely as he twisted out of Gwaine's hold but retrieved the stopper and put it back in the container.

"Is that so?" Gwaine put his hands on his hips and the happy-go-lucky attitude he usually sported was all but gone. "All I know - and I am but a humble knight - is when Percival had some of this his legs gave way like a baby foal and he slept for the best part of a day. You know Percy, built like a bull?" The knight gestured with wide hands. "Then there's you, Merlin, with not a scrap of fat - "

"Alright!" The servant snapped irritably and held up his hand. "I have a headache and it's the only thing that helps," he sighed.

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and the knight caught sight of his bandaged forearm, in addition to a myriad of angry scratches.

"Have you been mauled by a wild animal?" He reached for the servant's sleeve.

Merlin pulled away. "Its fine. I changed my soap, that's all."

Gwaine was not convinced but let it drop. He was worried about Merlin; over the last week his friend's features had formed a permanent scowl. Now he was knocking back a pain medication that the knight knew from personal experience had a kick like a mule. Gaius had given the knight some of the purple elixir when he'd dislocated his shoulder and every time Gwaine tried to wheedle some more out of the physician he was met with a withering glare and a lecture on how it was for emergencies only.

The knight decided to change tack. "I came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink." He cheerfully rubbed his hands together.

"There is a curfew, Gwaine, or had you not noticed?" Merlin responded incredulously.

The knight tapped his nose. "I wasn't talking about the tavern, my friend."

"I can't, Gwaine, I've got far too much to do!"

"Oh come on, an hour is not going to hurt - it will do you good!"

"No, Gwaine; you don't understand," the servant balled his hands into fists. "I'm behind with my chores, I'm doing Gaius' work as well as my own, I can't sleep when that warning bell goes off, and who do you think has to tidy up after all the rooms are ransacked looking for some sorcerer who's probably long gone and not interested in Camelot?" Merlin was shaking – it was all true; without his magic he was swamped and felt totally exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The knight had the decency to look guilty. Gwaine had to admit he'd secretly gotten a thrill out of trashing rooms in the name of the king. He got a perverse sense of satisfaction from rifling through drawers and upending tables; he'd not really considered who would have to clear up the mess afterwards.

Gwaine cleared his throat. "The sorcerer attacked you, Merlin. There can be no doubt about the intent to harm. Arthur was livid that you'd been hurt - it's why he's not giving up and the searches have been so thorough." The knight sighed. "Besides, what were they lurking around for if they did not want something? Not for the good of the king, I'd bet."

There was no answer to that. Merlin's head sank into his hands and he pulled at the hair from the root. He wanted to protest, to tell the truth. I confess; I'm the sorcerer that set off the stone! Only it was a little late for that now; everything had spiralled out of control so quickly – he'd never forgive himself if someone innocent stood accused for what he had done. He felt as if it would never be over; every misfortune to occur in Camelot was being attributed to the mystery magic-user. The hunting dogs had caught the scent and would keep going relentlessly until their prey was worn out and ripped limb from limb. To stand before the rampaging hounds and say "stop" would be a mistake – the time for that was gone. The best he could do was let the pack pass and hope they would run out of steam and give up.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Lost you for a bit there, Merlin."

The servant shook himself. "Just tired," he shrugged.

Gwaine waited for more and when it was not forthcoming decided to call it a day. "I'll be on my way then."

His friend did not answer so the knight got up, slowly making his way to the door, shoulders slumped and with decidedly less swagger in his stride than when he'd come in. Merlin was like the younger brother he'd never had, and if the boy could not look after himself, then he would just have to do it for him. The knight saw himself out.

The servant realised he'd not said anything for a while. "Yeah, thanks, Gwaine...Gwaine?"

Merlin lifted his head and searched the room but his companion was long gone. Judging by the light outside, so was a sizable chunk of time. He rubbed at his eyes but it did nothing to ease the burn behind them. What was happening? He was irritable, rude even, and his quick mind was muddled and sluggish. So this is the real me? Being without magic was a novel experience and one he did not care for. Of all the times he had wished he'd been born without it, he yearned to feel his gift now. He'd never been so bereft, locked out in the cold when he knew warmth and comfort were so close, yet inaccessible. He could not stand it much longer; the headaches, the itching, and the terrible pain beneath his skin. He dreaded to think what would happen if he could not get away to release the cuff again.

Day 7

Slow down, you idiot – you'll only draw attention to yourself. He knew he should heed his own warning but could not stop his body from pushing forward now that he could see the gates and potential freedom. He tried to slow his pace and look casual as he approached the guards, sailing past with eyes fixed on the exit. It was all going so well until a wooden pike barred his path. It was all he could do prevent himself from slamming into it.

"Where do you think you're going, sonny?"

Merlin bristled at the address and the prevention of his escape.

"To collect herbs," he barely concealed his displeasure at being detained.

"I don't think so," the guard answered, keeping the pole in place.

"I'm the acting physician; I need supplies," Merlin reasoned, running a hand through his hair in agitation and scratching his arm.

"No one comes in and no one goes out," the guard said in a sing-song voice.

"It's not even dark!" He squeaked, then swallowed, starting again. "I'm Merlin, you know me - the king's manservant. He won't like it when he hears about this," Merlin wagged his finger and tried to keep his tone light but it was difficult through gritted teeth.

"It was the king who gave us our orders," the guard sneered, leaning forward and enjoying his power over the squirming man.

"Look, I'll be back before nightfall; I just need a bit of yarrow, horehound and valerian - you won't even miss me!" He tried for a winning smile, white teeth and all.

"No."

"Be reasonable," Merlin yelled, flinging his hands outwards, "I need those herbs - people are going to get sick!" He pointed to his head violently, "Use that thing on top of your shoulders for once -"

"Everything alright here, gentlemen?"

"Gwaine! Thank the gods," Merlin almost fell upon his friend. "Could you please tell these lovely men that I have to leave the castle for a little while on urgent medical business?"

The knight raised an eyebrow, then addressed the guards. "Now, now, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement..."

Merlin did not hear any more; he used the distraction to break free and finally get away.

He shoved branches out the way, forcing himself to raise the pace. It was stupid; he would trip if not careful, then where would he be? He could already feel his gait start to waver; his legs were heavy and breath tight in his chest, but he had to get a little further. Merlin broke through the undergrowth and rolled on his ankle, stumbling forward. It took three large, haphazard steps and an outreached hand to prevent a fall. The warlock's feet slid on soft mud and he was prevented from going further by the presence of the river. Merlin staggered back, surprised at how far he had run. It should be sufficient distance to remove the cuff.

He felt a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over and the world tilted. Sinking to his knees, he was not sure if it was due to the pain medication he'd taken earlier or merely the exertion of running – it did not matter; it would be over soon. The warlock shrugged off his jacket and fished in his trouser pocket for the key. His hand shook and he fumbled trying to find the lock and click it open.

The release was euphoric.

Before the manacle had even reached the floor the magic was bursting out of him, eyes blazing gold and light radiating from both palms as his back arched toward the sun. A wave of power washed through the clearing, enhancing nature's beauty tenfold, adding shoots and flowers that had not been there before.

It took a while for the damp of the earth to seep into his clothing. Mud caked his back, buttocks, and calves. He was half the bog-man he'd been when Morgana had left him in a ditch. Unfortunately, his appearance may alert suspicion if he returned in such a state. Now it was free, magic could be summoned to clean his attire but somehow the call of the cool water was louder.

The warlock clambered to his feet, steadying himself against a tree and kicking off his boots. He staggered towards the river and waded into the water. It was colder than expected, but soothed the heat of his weary bones. The stones and gravel of the river bed were sharp against his bare feet. He leaned forward so his face was submerged and pushed down with his legs, letting himself float and becoming weightless, rocking in the gentle current.

Over the last week the light had been too bright, every sound too loud, every touch too painful, and now that was gone. His magic was free and the exhaustion that had been kept at bay with drugs and adrenaline flooded his system. He embraced the silence, the darkness, the peace; he was so tired and to let himself drift was easy, too easy – the last air bubbles escaped his lips and he did not raise his head for more. Enveloped in a cocoon of tranquillity he gave in completely, couldn't fight any more and did not want to. When blackness claimed him he did not resist; he welcomed it.


	6. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has been watching Merlin.

Chapter 6 Rock Bottom

_Day 7_

For someone who - in Gwaine's opinion - did not possess a physique worth boasting about, Merlin could certainly move fast when he wanted to. The knight was proud of his own fitness, hours of training had made him quick and agile, but for all that he had yet to catch sight of the servant.

It had taken a while to realise Merlin had given him the slip, preoccupied as he was talking to that obnoxious dimwit of a guard, but he was in hot pursuit now - and the servant made it easy. Merlin had left behind a trail of trampled bushes and broken twigs signposting the direction he was travelling - which seemed haphazard at best.

The knight skidded to a halt at the edge of the river. A motionless body bobbed half-submerged on the surface and was starting to sink.

"MERLIN!"

Without a second thought Gwaine launched himself into the water.

The warlock was immersed in a sea of darkness, oblivious to the world around him; it was peaceful, quiet, and glorious.

Merlin was wrenched from his cocoon of tranquillity like a babe being brought into the world and with the same result: he let out a harsh yell as his senses were assaulted with light and noise, firm hands wrapped around his chest. The magic that had been subdued for so long jumped at the chance to defend its master and he broke free of his bonds. His feet hit the riverbed and he righted himself in the waist-deep water, breathing hard and readying himself against his assailant.

A figure erupted from the waves, flicking long hair in an arc of droplets, then used one hand to wipe excess drips from his face.

"Gwaine! What, what are you doing here?"

The knight spat out some water and waded forward, pointing a finger at the bedraggled servant.

"Saving your bony ass."

"I-I was fine," Merlin replied, blinking his eyes clear and shaking water from his ears. Even to him, the statement sounded ridiculous.

"Facedown in the water? I thought you'd drowned!" Gwaine rubbed his elbow and shook his head, still a bit dazed from his aborted rescue mission.

Merlin looked ashen. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He bit his lip and looked up from under a fringe that moments ago had been plastered to his forehead and now stuck up in all directions like a halo.

"You've got a good kick, I'll give you that."

The knight surveyed the servant who was struggling to stay upright against a weak current, his hands gripped tightly around his arms and his brow creased in apprehension. That the lanky man could inflict any real damage to the knight was absurd. Gwaine threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh.

Under normal circumstances Merlin would probably have chuckled too – not today. He was fed-up with everyone thinking he was fragile and useless to the extent there was a part of him that was starting to believe it too. The wet warlock just stood there, dripping and indignant.

Gwaine sobered, but on seeing the outrage etched on the servant's face he started to giggle. Head down, hand over mouth, and shoulders shaking; Gwaine lost all control.

That was the last straw for Merlin. Newly-liberated magic lashed out, coiling around the knight's ankle like a lasso and pulling him off balance. The knight's laughter was instantly choked off as he disappeared in a mass of white wash. Merlin couldn't help but smile, snort even - it was the first time his mouth had curled upwards in over a week and the muscles of his cheeks ached from disuse.

Strangely, the usually surefooted knight couldn't seem to regain his equilibrium. He floundered in the water just long enough for Merlin to wade towards the bank and clamber out. The warlock hastily stripped and wrung the excess water from his clothes (with the subtle aid of his gift) before redressing.

By the time Gwaine resurfaced long enough to get his bearings, Merlin was already back in his tunic and balanced with one leg in his trousers. Once again, the knight wondered how the notoriously awkward servant could move so quickly and efficiently.

Gwaine shot a spout of water out his mouth like an ornate fountain. "So, why were you gazing at the bottom of the river?" Gwaine challenged as he climbed onto the bank. "Find any herbs?" He kicked off his boots and stripped down to his small clothes.

The smile vanished and the servant flushed, taking some time to answer. "I erm... well, I was hot. I wanted to paddle and slipped," Merlin shrugged, not meeting his friend's eye. "You know me - clumsy." The words flew off his tongue; inwardly he cringed at how easy it was to lie.

Gwaine paused as he put on damp britches and weighed what to say next. "What's going on, Merlin? You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" The knight stood, hands on hips, awaiting a verdict.

The dark-haired man scratched his nose and kicked at some stones. "I'm a farm boy, Gwaine; I can't stand being cooped up in a stuffy castle. With all the searches and extra security…I had to get away." Merlin looked at the knight with wide, innocent eyes. "And I do need to get herbs," he swallowed and hoped his half-truth would be sufficient.

It was true the whole castle was on edge; only this morning Leon had snapped at Percival during training, and the curly-haired knight was renowned for being calm under pressure.  _Perhaps I'm wrong… Merlin's always been a bit strange, and that riverbed was damn slippery..._

The knight's eyes narrowed. "You still seem like you're hiding something."

Merlin fidgeted and started to babble. "Arthur says I'm an open book – couldn't keep a secret if my life depended on it." He rubbed the back of his head and forced a smile.

Gwaine just nodded. He was about to launch into an argument - if everything was 'fine', why was Merlin's behaviour so odd and why did he look so haggard - however, studying his friend in the bright sun, Gwaine was surprised to discover the dark-haired man's eyes were bright and searching and his skin no longer looked gray. His arms now seemed largely unblemished - save for an angry red mark just beneath his elbow. The nasty injury had been concealed under a bandage for a few days but still looked painful. Gwaine's thoughts were interrupted by Merlin.

"I had better get those herbs."

The warlock bent down, fearful his face would reveal too much. He busied himself in searching for the relevant plants which were unusually close at hand.

"You certainly picked a nice spot," Gwaine remarked absently as he looked at the abundant flora surrounding them. "Let me help."

They worked in relative silence, Merlin directing Gwaine in what he was looking for. The servant's head felt clear for the first time in many days and he started to think of how he could deal with the problem at hand. He soon realised he knew very little about the witchfinder. His brain had been so foggy that he'd missed much.

"What do you make of Lord Kane?" Merlin asked the rugged knight tentatively, rubbing his arm and trying to look casual as he waited for the other man's opinion.

Gwaine slowly stood, hands behind head, and stretched his back. Then he munched on a handful of wild raspberries and wiped his hands on his breeches before finally turning to address his friend.

"I guess he's a typical noble; he's obsessed with status, pompous, speaks in Latin given half the chance and looks down on everyone." Gwaine sniffed and uncorked an animal skin, taking a swig. "Seems to be making himself at home though. I wouldn't be surprised if he asked Arthur if he can stay."

"Stay?" Merlin paled, fumbling with the plants in his hands.

He'd been convinced the noble would eventually leave, that he only had to be patient. Merlin felt his legs give and he had to steady himself against a tree, taking several deep breaths. He could not keep up this pretence indefinitely or go on for much longer the way he had been. The dark-haired man sighed and rubbed his face, then crouched down to pick up what he'd dropped and hoped Gwaine had not noticed his reaction.

He could not stay in Camelot, not with that rock - nor could he leave his king _. I have to destroy it - but how? Kane keeps it with him at all times. If I remove the band, how long before I'm rendered useless and writhing on the ground? Could I dispose of it before I'm caught? Would Gwaine help me if he knew or..?_ The thoughts churned over and over in his mind.

If Gwaine noticed the sudden change in the servant he did not say. "I can't see Lord Kane setting up residence going down too well with his Highness." He gave a knowing nod. "The lord has rather outdated views - he thinks the queen should be decorative, not functional. Don't get me wrong, she's a beautiful woman," the knight sighed wistfully, "but she's clever and compassionate too; has to be, to put up with Arthur and keep him in line."

Gwaine reached over and playfully punched the servant on the arm. "You should have seen Kane's face when he asked Gwen which house her family belonged to." Gwaine shook his head in mirth and said in a perfect imitation of Kane's voice. "How is this possible when your brother is a knight, Your Majesty?" Gwaine chuckled at the memory.

Merlin forced a smile at the news but the older man did not notice, busy with his own recollection. He was high born himself but had always hated the snobbery of it all and renounced his titles. He tried not to think of that time or his family – preferring to replace memories with more pleasurable distractions. Merlin was the only one who knew his secret. Ironically, the former wanderer was now officially what he should detest – a noble. This time it was different; Arthur had knighted him because of his character and skills, not for who his father was. Gwaine was proud to be a Camelot knight, loyal to his brothers and king. For all Arthur's faults, Gwaine would follow the man to his grave. He now saw what Merlin had always seen – an honourable and great leader willing to make changes and start to bring some much-needed equality to the realm. Commoners could now become knights and Camelot had an ex-servant as queen. It was all very forward and Gwaine was glad to be a part of it.

He owed his new life to Merlin. There had been something about the man that made him want to stop drifting and gain some stability. When he'd been asked for his assistance in saving Arthur, Gwaine did it without question – for Merlin. Now his anchor was in trouble but would not ask for help.  _Always for the good of others, my friend, and not for yourself._

The knight took another drink; his friend was keeping something from him and he wished Merlin would share it. Things just didn't add up. When the knights went swimming, Merlin always avoided the water, preferring to stay on the bank and fully clothed. Usually the man was resolutely cheerful and had boundless energy - his little jibes and colourful exchanges with the king kept everyone entertained - but there had been none of that recently. Still, Merlin insisted nothing was wrong. He had seemed more like himself this afternoon, but there was something...

If Merlin would not confide in him perhaps he would speak to Arthur - but the servant was stubborn, just like the king. If Gwaine thought about it, he envied their friendship sometimes, their bond – it was something special. Hidden behind the insults, Arthur had more respect and value for the servant's opinions than anyone else's and Merlin's apparent disrespect could not hide his selfless loyalty to the king. All who chose to look could see it, with the possible exception of the men themselves. Gwaine wiped his mouth and called upon his friend.

"Here," he handed over the animal skin.

The servant reached for the container, then took a large gulp. He coughed, eyes watering as the alcohol hit the back his throat.

"Gwaine!" He choked, "I have to work!"

The knight shrugged. "You worry too much, my friend; sometimes a diversion does you good. It does not do to over think things."  _Sometimes it's better to forget._

"Maybe... but I need to keep a clear head."

Gwaine just smiled, patting Merlin's shoulder before draining the animal skin.

* * *

Nice as it had been outside in the sun, he could not delay the inevitable - they would have to return to the castle, which meant he would have to put the manacle back on. Despite the number of times Gaius had scolded him for using magic on trivial things, Merlin had never truly appreciated just how much his gift seeped out unbidden. He realised it was a necessity - his magic was never meant to be contained.

Merlin made an excuse about an urgent call of nature, stalking off to find a secluded spot. He took off his neckerchief, delving into the small bag he'd brought for the herbs and retrieving the cuff – his stomach lurched just looking at it. What had been dull metal now seemed to have acquired a luster. It was changing. Using the coarse fabric, he picked up the band; he stuffed one end of the cloth into his mouth and bit down hard, clicking the metal ring shut.

The cry was muffled this time but the effect was no less devastating. The clamp on his magic was like being cut off from air – the suffocation would be slower, but it would happen nonetheless. It was just a matter of time. The beautiful glen instantly gave way to muted shades; his hearing became less acute, smells less pungent, and he wondered if this was how everyone else saw the world. His head was muzzy, like being underwater, and once again his skin crawled. Merlin fought the urge to vomit as he wrapped the scarf around his forearm, securing the cuff and keeping it hidden from view.

He'd naively thought the break would make it easier - he was wrong. The brief respite did nothing to ease the pain once the manacle was back. Wearing it only got harder.

He returned to the knight and they tramped back to the castle. As they walked, the bright sun gave way to black clouds, matching the warlock's mood. Merlin knew he should make conversation but could not bring himself to do so.

It started raining and they had to walk faster - negating the need for talk. Merlin's mind turned obsessively, trying to come up with a solution to his insurmountable problem. Any ideas he may have had earlier dissipated like wisps of smoke. He was at a loss and despondent. His best bet was to wait and hope Kane would leave before his own sanity did.

He just had to hang on a little longer. Arthur had said if the stone remained quiet and there was no sign of a threat...  _I can do this. I've assured Gwaine and Arthur suspect nothing. Just a few more days, that's all, and then it will be alright..._

* * *

_TBC_

_Let me know what you think. Next chapter we catch-up with day 10!_

 


	7. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10, Arthur is worried - there is defiantly something wrong with Merlin.

Chapter 7 Breaking Point

_Day 10_

Arthur was worried; Merlin's behaviour had been very erratic over the last couple of days. He knew the servant was under pressure with Gaius being away and had tried to turn a blind eye to some of the outbursts, but he couldn't let it continue - there had been complaints.

All the courtiers had received their various tinctures and ointments, the medications being up to the same quality as usual and even tasting better in some instances - it was the manner of delivery and administration that had caused objections. The words "rude and insubordinate" had been used, among others, and much as he hated to do it, Arthur would have to reprimand the servant. At least it would give him an opportunity to get to the bottom of the problem - because there was definitely a problem.

If the king did not know better, he'd have thought Merlin was avoiding him. Arthur had scarcely seen his servant and Merlin was proving to be a difficult man to track down. He'd been uncharacteristically efficient and exceptionally busy - all the servants had. Then there were physician's duties to perform as well as his usual chores.

The royal just had to get through this meeting first, then he could speak to Merlin. There was no escape; the servant had been forced to attend.

Lord Kane had claimed he felt like he was being followed and that someone had disturbed his chambers but the knights had found no evidence of that or anything magical. In fact, the stone had done nothing for over a week; it could have been a lump of coal for all the activity it had shown. Arthur silently cursed; for all his determination to find the sorcerer he was at his wit's end and had had enough. Even during the course of the meeting his enthusiasm had waned. The king looked about the room. With the exception of Kane, all appeared jaded - Merlin looked terrible. Arthur struggled to keep his mind focused. It was ridiculous; the rock was not worth this disruption. Lord Kane's presence had caused nothing but unrest and distress.

The noble had promised that the 'Veritas Saxum' would transform the castle;  _well, it had certainly done that._  Arthur studied the hunk of polished black stone in pride of place on the round table. It was no bigger than a man's fist and it was hard to reconcile this unassuming object with the power it held. The king was ashamed to admit he had been seduced when he'd heard of its heritage. Tomorrow he would tell the noble he could take the dark crystal with him when he went - and in Arthur's opinion, he couldn't go soon enough.

Arthur's thoughts bounced back and forth as the meeting droned on. A loud snort and suppressed giggles made the royal's head spin around. He spied his servant covering his mouth with one hand, looking clammy and swaying slightly. Arthur was livid; he could not believe it.  _No, Merlin. Not here; not now_.

Everyone had different ways of coping with pressure and Merlin was known to spend time in the tavern. The king was sure he'd smelt a faint whiff of alcohol on his servant's breath a few days ago after Merlin disappeared for the afternoon with Gwaine, but surely he wouldn't turn up for work drunk and embarrass his king? Arthur may not particularly care for the lord, but he certainly did not want a servant's lack of protocol to disgrace the kingdom.

Arthur glared at Merlin. Anger flared as hot and explosive as lava, completely obliterating all previous concerns the monarch may have had for his friend. The meeting must end immediately; there could be no more incidents. He would certainly have words with Merlin now - even if the man looked like he was about to keel over.

Arthur's agitation mounted as he watched his servant's gaze flit around the room at everything except his king. Finally, Merlin's eyes locked with his. Arthur let his displeasure be known by drawing two figures across his throat - a clear message that Merlin was in trouble and should pull himself together.

The dark-haired man had stared wide-eyed for a moment, frozen in time. Then he bolted.

Merlin tore through the council chambers and flung open the door. His footfalls echoed through an empty corridor then faded to nothing, leaving a stunned and silent room.

Arthur was held immobile by two opposing forces: instinct and duty. He was torn between chasing after Merlin and staying still -  _what king would run after a lowly servant?_

He did not hear the sounds of a second pair of feet swiftly leaving the room or the murmur of subdued chatter. He'd half-hoped Merlin would be heard retching outside, confirming his suspicions about excess alcohol, but the look his servant had given him said otherwise. It was not the face of someone inebriated; it was full of terror and desperation - the same expression he'd seen on the battlefield countless times before striking an enemy down. He'd never expected to see it on the face of his friend.

Arthur stared blindly at the black rock and tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He was numb, as if doused in ice water. He barely noticed a scrape of a chair and rustle of fabric as his queen stood and addressed the room.

Guinevere's hand slipped into his. Arthur was surprised to find the council chambers empty and the black stone gone, his keen eyes having failed to register everyone's departure.

"Gwaine's gone after him," she said quietly.

Arthur pushed back his chair and started to rise. "I should go -"

"No." The queen placed her other hand on his chest, preventing the king from standing. "You're exhausted; Gwaine will find him. I've rescheduled the rest of the meeting for tomorrow - whatever it is Lord Kane wishes to discuss can wait until then."

Arthur nodded, but remained silent. He got up slowly, hand still encased in his wife's. The king vowed he would restore order to his kingdom – this chaos had gone on long enough. Lord Kane would leave and everything would go back to how it was before.

* * *

There was no sign of Merlin. Gwaine had run after him almost immediately but the servant had vanished. The knight repeatedly searched the castle - nothing. Eventually a guard had told him, somewhat pompously, that Merlin had been sighted heading for the forest approximately half an hour ago. The knight cursed, regretting ever convincing the guards they must let the king's servant pass.

Gwaine reached the edge of the trees and realised it was now dark and he could not see to pick up a trail. As he wondered if things could get any worse, he saw a flash of lightning and heard a rumble of thunder in the distance.

The knight yelled Merlin's name again and again but there was no reply.  _I knew something was wrong. I should stopped him, should have acted sooner._ Gwaine turned and started sprinting towards the castle. He would get a torch and find his friend - he just hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

Merlin was running, as swift and hard as prey pursued. He was blind to the path he followed; all that mattered was that his feet took him away from the castle. Through bushes and over uneven terrain he went until once again he hit the water's edge. The warlock collapsed against a tree; his breaths heavy, heart pounding, and vision blurring in and out of focus. Merlin reached into his pocket and searched for the key.

It wasn't there.

Frantically he turned out his pockets, slapped at his sides, and scoured the ground; over and over. _I must have missed it. It has to be safe; I'll find it..._ only he didn't.

The little shiny key - his salvation - was lost.

"NO!"

He beat his fists into the earth. Tears of frustration rolling down his face. "No, no, no!"

He clawed at the band, burned his fingers trying to pull it over his wrist. Even with his slender joints the cuff refused to pass over the bones. Desperate, the warlock hunted for a rock and, steadying his arm in the dirt, brought it down on the band. The clang failed to drown out his scream when the cuff did not yield. All he achieved was a deep cut and grazes to his own flesh.

Merlin let out a hysterical cry at the irony of it all; he'd put the manacle on to protect himself from a rock, then tried and failed to use one to open it. He'd been a fool to think the mundane would work on such a powerful object. He'd been a fool to think he could overcome it.

Saltwater stung his eyes as he pounded his legs and pulled at his hair. His magic built up, pushing against his skin and trying to get out by any means possible. The warlock gave in.

" **Á** **hreddan** **bealucræft, áhreddan bealucræft!"**

Searing pain assaulted him as his gift tried to obey. He let out an agonised scream, but instead of golden light, blood poured out of his eyes, ears, lips and nose. The cut on his arm gushed, but the host felt nothing aside from the initial torment as his magic finally forced itself free.

Merlin was unconscious before he hit the ground. The warlock remained motionless as the red river formed a warm, sticky puddle under his head. The earth, air, and water were still; as if nature itself paid tribute to the broken man. Then the silence gave way to a flash of lighting and a rumble of thunder.

* * *

_TBC..._

_Well, was that what you expected?_

**Áhreddan bealucræft,** free magic

 


	8. The Truth Will Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Gwaine try and come to terms with Merlin's outburst.

Chapter 8: The Truth Will Out

_Day 11_

Arthur clenched his fist, ignoring the pain as nails dug into his palm. He couldn't think straight and his throat constricted. He stood briskly, unable to sit still, and the scrape of the chair broke the awful silence. He started to pace, covering the same ground over and over like a caged animal.

Merlin lay on the narrow bed. He appeared peaceful; his face was clean, shirt changed, with no evidence of the blood that had marred his features. He seemed younger, innocent; like he was just sleeping and would awaken at the lightest touch - only he hadn't. No amount of movement, yelling, or shaking had made him stir.

When his servant had bolted like a wild horse Arthur would not have believed the man would be returned in such a state. Silently he berated himself for failing to follow.  _How could I have been so stupid? My own servant and I didn't notice._  He'd known Merlin for years and should have realised sooner. The trouble was he'd had suspicions, seen things, but ignored them and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. In truth, he'd not the guts to act on his own instincts. Now look where they were.

The knight stilled, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed answers and Merlin could not give any - not yet. King Arthur was one of the most influential men in the five kingdoms, but all that power meant nothing here. All he could do was wait for Merlin to open his eyes - if he opened his eyes.

The monarch ran his hands through dirty blond hair. He didn't know what to do; the physician had been sent away by his order and the man that replaced him was laid prostrate and helpless. He'd dispatched some knights to retrieve Gaius, but it would be at least two days before the physician was back in the castle.

Arthur should have already left. He needed to change and had urgent matters of state that required his attention. Sometimes he hated being a royal, having to follow protocol rather than his head or heart, to be outwardly stoic and strong when he wanted to scream and throw things. He knew of only one man brave enough to challenge etiquette and break the rules – Merlin.

A knock at the door startled Arthur from his thoughts.

"Enter," the king spoke without removing his gaze from the pale, supine form.

Leon peered into the room and gave a small cough. "Your presence is required in the council chambers, Sire."

Arthur nodded slowly, then turned toward Gwaine. "Stay with him and let me know as soon as he wakes."

The knight gave a curt nod.

Both men had calmed considerably since their initial confrontation, the shouting and accusations all but forgotten. Even if it had taken some stern words from the queen to make them see sense and work together.

"I don't care what time it is, or where I am; I want to know."

Gwaine dipped his chin in assent. The king stared at his unconscious servant one final time before exiting the room.

The retreating footsteps faded into silence and the quiet was unbearable.

"Why could you not confide in me, Merlin?" The knight whispered, shaking his head.

There was no reply, and Gwaine had not expected one. He pulled a stool close to the bedside and sat, rubbing his beard. It was going to be a long night. A difficult conversation awaited them when or if the servant did rouse.

He should have been quicker, should have picked out the trail sooner. The promised storm had never come, but by the time the servant was found he was unconscious, shivering and covered in blood.

He'd almost missed Merlin; the crumpled figure had blended seamlessly into the undergrowth. If it wasn't for the light of the torch revealing a flash of blue and red he'd have sailed straight past. Gwaine had feverishly checked for a pulse and injuries, then hoisted the unresponsive man onto his shoulder, hauling the servant back to the castle as fast as he could.

By the time the knight had reached the courtyard he was exhausted, but pushed on to the physician's quarters. Of course Arthur had barged in then; demanding to know what happened, how Merlin got into such a state, what had taken so long... Gwaine slammed the door in his face.

He'd taken a moment to compose himself whilst listening to the pounding on the door and the irate yelling of the king, then had cut away Merlin's soiled clothes. Another pair of hands could have helped, but the servant had always been reluctant to undress in front of others and this way his friend maintained some privacy.

Gwaine knew the basics - all knights did - but he was no physician. He'd cleaned Merlin, removing all the blood, checked closely for injuries and wrapped him in blankets. It was the best he could do and it felt woefully insufficient.

By the timed Gwaine had finished, the queen had joined her husband at the door and he'd had no choice but to let them in.

The knight turned over a near-empty medicine bottle in his hands. The potion he'd warned Merlin about was all but gone. He gripped the vessel tightly and fought the urge to launch it at the wall but a tiny amount of the purple fluid clung to the sides and Merlin may still need it. The knight sighed and put the potion down, withdrawing a flask from his breast pocket. Gwaine took a sizable gulp, trying to think what he would say and where to begin.

* * *

There was a metallic residue on his tongue that could only be one thing. His head spun from blood loss and his throat was dry and raw, but he didn't feel as bad as he'd expected. Just as vomiting during a fever brought relief, his magical purge - however unorthodox - had offered a temporary respite.

Hadn't Gaius always said bloodletting was the medical 'cure all'? The physician would be fascinated by this outcome, assuming Merlin survived long enough to see his mentor again. His battered body could not take much more abuse. Merlin sobered and forced himself to move, he needed to get back to the castle.

He pushed down and realisation hit like a thunderbolt - he was no longer outside. The wood digging into his back was slats, not tree roots, and his shirt was damp from sweat rather than wet ground.

Merlin gasped, opening his eyes. A heavy blanket fell to the floor as he tried to sit up and reach for his forearm. The band was still there; he could feel its stranglehold on his magic but could not stop himself from searching for it.

A rough hand grasped his wrist.

"Don't!"

The servant turned toward the voice, wide-eyed.

Gwaine released his grip and dropped his head; he did not want to hurt his friend, nor see him looking so terrified.

"You followed me?" Merlin croaked as he slumped back down.

"I did."

Merlin's heart hammered as he took note of his appearance. The shirt was fresh, meaning his scarred torso had been exposed. The servant sought the cover of his discarded blanket as the knight stared at him. Merlin's heart sank further when he saw the bandage that covered his forearm. The cream fabric was already stained dark pink and pale yellow. Resting on top of the dressings, like jewellery displayed on a cushion, was the cuff – shiny and unblemished.  _This is it; I'm cornered._

He was prepared to defend himself but Gwaine seemed content to sit in silence. As time crawled by, one all-consuming thought gnawed away at him like a rat with cheese. He could stand it no longer.

"Arthur?"

"Knows -"

"What!"

Merlin sprang forward so fast he was almost fully upright before Gwaine was able to push him back down.

"Easy, now." Gwaine cautioned. "Arthur knows you are here. He saw your condition when I carried you back."

The servant attempted to interrupt but Gwaine held up a finger in warning, the other hand keeping him down.

"He does not know the cause of all that blood and neither do I... I told him you may have fallen and hit your head."

Merlin visibly sagged under the knight's fingers.

"That's what I thought at the time…"

Gwaine looked directly at Merlin, giving him an opportunity to speak, but the servant's mouth would not respond.

"Only under all that mess - save for your arm - there were no fresh wounds."

The silence went on forever.

"I found plenty of old ones, though. All over your chest and back. Scars, strange marks, scratches across your neck and arms."

Merlin still did not answer.

The knight took a big breath and was unable to disguise the hurt he felt, blurting out, "Why couldn't you tell me? Did you think that I would judge?"

Gwaine felt the servant flinch under his touch.

"No." Merlin replied, hoarse.

The knight looked angry for a moment. "Did you think I was blind - that I wouldn't notice?" He shook his head and spoke to himself more than the invalid. "How could I have been so stupid?"

At this, the servant was driven to respond. "I...I couldn't say anything. I had to keep it hidden," he managed, still in shock, as the world he knew began to crumble.

Gwaine turned to face his friend. "I would have protected you," he pointed at his chest. "I can still protect you...Tell me who it is?"

It was like a slap.

"What?"

Gwaine could hardly keep the venom out of his voice. "Who's been hurting you, Merlin? It's obviously being going on a while - is it one of guards?"

"No."

"A noble then, I've seen it before – they waltz in here and think they are better than everyone, can treat servants like animals..."

Merlin hesitated; true, he'd suffered at the hand of visitors in the past and seen others being mistreated countless times - but nothing he could not handle in his own way. This was ridiculous.

Unfortunately, Gwaine picked up on Merlin's wavering and saw it as confirmation. Merlin's odd behaviour and physical decline had both coincided with one thing...

"Is it Lord Kane?"

The servant's eyes widened in horror.

"Is it? Has he caused all this? Is that why you've been running away?

Merlin could not find the words.

"That bracelet, I couldn't get the damn thing off..." Gwaine stopped, seeing Merlin falter once again.

_Yes, the cuff and Kane were the source of all the anguish - just not in the way Gwaine thought._

The knight hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "That's it, isn't it? That's why you won't go near him... it was him all along. I bet he's the sorcerer, what with that bloody magical rock - what better way to hide - the crafty bas-"

"NO!" Merlin shook his head – he could not comprehend how Gwaine had come to these outlandish conclusions. But the knight was on a roll, making giant leaps in logic and gaining momentum.

"Did you work it out? Was he trying to keep you quiet?"

Merlin shook his head, unable to speak. The horror of the situation must have shown on his face because Gwaine softened, patting his chest lightly.

"Listen, it's alright. I'll look after you; we can go and see Arthur together -"

"No." The servant insisted, "you've got this all wrong!"

Merlin was getting really agitated but the knight was not listening - he'd sprung to his feet, feverishly marching up and down the small room.

_How could this be happening?_ The warlock did not like Kane, but had found nothing despite following the noble and searching his rooms. The man was not of magic; Merlin could not stand by and see him accused of such by a hot-headed knight – the consequences would be terrible and far-reaching.

Gwaine stilled. "Kane's called a meeting; he's in the council chambers right now – I must go and warn Arthur."

"What? No! Gwaine, stop this please," Merlin pleaded. "It's me, do you hear? I'm -"

Both men were halted in their tracks by the deafening clang of the warning bell.

"Arthur!"

Gwaine snatched up his sword and headed for the door. He turned with one hand on the latch.

"Stay here, Merlin. This conversation is not over!"

The knight suddenly delved into the side of his boot, retrieving a short blade. He rushed back to the servant, thrusting the hilt of the dagger at the younger man and squeezing Merlin's shoulder.

"Be safe."

Gwaine wasn't even out of view before Merlin was clambering out of bed. The room tilted and slid out of focus when he stood, but he continued regardless. Merlin grabbed the bottle of pain medication and sucked it dry, then stumbled trying to locate his boots. He'd certainly not triggered the alarm - his magic was all but impotent and he had no means to release it with the key lost. The thought made him sick.

He shouldn't be able to move the way he was, but adrenaline combined with a sense of duty was a wondrous thing, breathing new life into his weary body and spirit.

He found his left boot and pulled it on.

This was what he'd always feared, that there would be some attack on his king - magical or not - and he would be powerless.

_Call Kilgharrah?_  No. The dragon could be of no help; besides, there was no time and the cuff had silenced his voice.

He reached under the bed for his other boot and light bounced off the band. His gaze switched between Gwaine's blade and his confined wrist.  _Maybe there is a way.._. He studied his hand once more, trying to imagine life without it. His fingers curled around the knife - with his knowledge of anatomy, he knew precisely where to cut.

The dagger clattered to the floor. His stomach and magic rebelled against such a macabre act, making him lose his grip. This was not the answer - shock alone would render him unconscious in seconds.

The warlock staggered across the room, steadying himself against the table. There was no other choice; he had to help Arthur - magic or no.

Despite a muzzy head, he forced the pace and kept moving. It had to be Kane - he knew it in his bones and such a visceral force was never wrong.

The corridor was full of people running in all directions. Someone crashed into his shoulder as they rushed past but he did not stop. The warning bell was still ringing, the castle in total chaos, but he would defend Arthur no matter the cost.

The crowds dwindled down to nothing as Merlin finally mounted the steps to the council chambers. The door hung off its hinges, shouts and clouds of dust spilling out into the corridor. Here fate stood waiting to test his conviction; the only question that remained was whether he would be strong enough to keep his promise.

* * *

_TBC..._

_So, what do you think will happen?_


	9. Hidden Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur discovers something about Merlin he did not know.

Chapter 9: Hidden Talents

"Stunned". That was the only word for it. From his place on the dusty floor, Arthur stared up in disbelief at Lord Kane. How had things come to this? His shoulder ached but it was not serious. He could not say the same for the guards and knights who lay unmoving against cold stone. The king pushed himself forward so he was in front of Guinevere; he would protect her at least. She seemed unharmed and Arthur intended to keep it that way.

When the explosion happened the royals had been shielded by a protective wall of knights. Kane had then picked off the injured until only the king, queen, and a handful of council members remained.

Once again he had trusted someone who had turned against him.  _How could I be such a fool?_  As always, Merlin had seen through the façade from the start. He'd not said as much, but he disliked the noble; pointedly avoiding him. Merlin's funny feelings were seldom wrong and Arthur should have taken note of them – he'd been so preoccupied with the 'witch hunt' when the danger was right under his nose. At least the idiot was safe in the physician's chambers and not here – for that he was grateful.

Gwaine skidded as he ran full pelt into the room, sword in hand, shouting out the warning that was too late.

"Arthur! He's a sorce -"

The knight was flung against the wall with a loud crack, then dropped to the ground, limp and lifeless. Arthur's blood ran cold at the way Kane had swatted the skilled warrior like a troublesome fly. The grand throne room now lay ruined, dust and debris floated in the air, his knights injured - devastated in a blink of an eye.

The king had thought he was having a reasoned discussion and then it had all gone wrong. Arthur had declined the stone and refused to meet Kane's outlandish demands. The noble had become totally irrational, enraged - all hell had broken loose.

Kane's shrill voice broke through Arthur's thoughts.

"I am not a sorcerer! How dare you sully my name with such an association? They have no right to wield such power - some of them are simple, uneducated, peasant lowlives. The Veritas Saxum allows me to take their magic and utilise it as I see fit."

Arthur could not help himself. "So it's alright to have magic as long as the person is high-born; is that it?" The king thought of Morgana – she was of noble birth and superior education but was still corrupted by magic.

The lord turned, curling his lip in contempt. "Only the learned and responsible should have the ability to control others; those with breeding." He waved the now-glowing truth stone, punctuating his words. The air crackled with blue sparks.

"This," he gestured to the wrecked room and the injured, "is your fault. I wouldn't have had to hurt anyone if you had just given me what I asked - what is owed me." His face was puce with fury.

Arthur grit his teeth and tried again to make the vengeful noble see sense. "Camelot is successful but, as I explained, that wealth is tied up in trade. We need to feed and house our citizens, provide for our armies... if you take so much from the crown, it will be the innocent who will suffer – villages, farmers, families, and children. It is not reasonable or responsible to ask for such an amount."

"What about my suffering?" Kane jabbed at his chest. "I lost everything! My birthright, my parents, my sister... all because King Uther refused payment. Our family had no money, we'd used everything to finance the trip to this kingdom. But we left empty-handed, forced out of our home and made to live among the poor."

There was nothing Arthur could say.

"My father was a noble, a respected petrologist, but the simple-minded thought that studying rocks was a form of magic," Kane spat, grimacing. "He was a learned man, a scientist! After all he had done they treated us like criminals, hunted us like common sorcerers. Uther needed that stone to capture the dragon and when it was destroyed he went back on his word, said he would not pay for something that no longer existed. My father received nothing, not even an acknowledgment. You, Arthur Pendragon, a so-called honourable man, are indebted to me!"

Kane sent a bolt of borrowed magic toward the throne, taking a big chunk out of the wood and leaving it smouldering.

The queen had listened to Kane's tale with a sinking heart; his story shared similarities with her own. She hadn't been born with the riches Kane had, but she knew firsthand how quickly fortunes could turn. Her world had fallen apart when her father had been executed for mere association with someone of magic. Twice she'd been falsely accused of the craft, sidestepping the pyre by the merest margin, and she knew only too well the pain of being banished from her home.

When the warlord Helios had abducted her, a life of slavery and shame would have been hers had she not escaped. She was not bitter at those misfortunes, however, and when her circumstances changed she rejoiced in her new life without disavowing her old one. Her upbringing defined her, gave her inner strength, and taught her many lessons which she was now in a position to act upon. Gwen did not want to ask what had happened to Kane's sister. She knew the fate that pretty young girls often fell into – what she had almost been forced to do herself.

The king rubbed his temple. Despite everything, Arthur had loved his father and had always craved his respect - but there was no denying Uther had been ruthless. It pained Arthur to hear how his father had treated Lord Kane Senior, but his son had taken his retribution too far. Arthur took a breath, hoping the situation was still negotiable.

"I am sorry to hear what happened to your family and for your losses. I am prepared to compensate you - but within the means of the citadel and not at the expense of my people. Surely a man of your learning and stature can accept that?"

Guinevere saw an opening and joined her husband in appealing to the broken man.

"Lord Kane, Camelot strives for equality; we're trying to give the poor access to education, opportunities to better themselves... slavery is outlawed here, and I have looked into reuniting families that have become separated -"

"Quiet!" Another window shattered.

Kane had listened silently to the simpering royals, becoming increasingly irate. "I don't want to find her; I know what she has become. She is no longer worthy to carry the family name – she is dead to me."

"That's not her fault!" Gwen gasped.

"No, it's his!" Lightning shot from the glowing stone.

For all the attributes Kane thought noble blood afforded him, a good aim was not one of them. It had been close, though; scorch marks stained the floor a hair's breadth from the king.

Kane readied himself to attack again.

"STOP!"

The lord hesitated, arm poised. All turned towards the door.

* * *

Merlin surveyed the scene as if it moved at a snail's pace; his king and queen sprawled at the base of the throne, held captive by an unhinged, rock-wielding noble. He saw the guards and Gwaine, injured and unmoving. The sight was sickening.

_This is my fault – I should have prevented it._

Merlin's destiny was to protect and he was completely impotent. No magic, no sword… the only weapon available was his tongue and, sharp as it was, he'd never had any real control over it.

Solutions flew through his head quicker than could process them but Merlin didn't have a plan. He hoped only to distract Kane long enough for Arthur, Gwen, or even Geoffrey to make a move. He was sure the queen still had her dagger and she knew how to use a sword if she could get one. The lord was bound to underestimate her, maybe that would be his weakness.

Magic crackled and Kane shouted, aiming the rock at the royal.

Nothing else mattered - the warlock had to save his king.

"STOP!"

Arthur's heart soared then sank at the sound of that voice. Immense joy that Merlin was finally awake battled with fear for what the man had walked into. He turned, hoping his friend had brought reinforcements; instead he saw a lone figure requiring the support of the wall to even stand up.

Kane observed the servant as well. He paused, incredulous, then threw back his head and laughed.

"You would be wise to turn around and walk away, boy." He gave a dismissive gesture with his free hand.

Arthur silently urged Merlin to leave. The servant just stared back and gave a barely discernible shake of the head.

"Scuttle along now; you won't get another chance."

Merlin bit his lip; he was twenty-six summers, not a child. He was Emrys, a fearless warlock, and he had no intention of leaving.

"No."

"No?"

"These people are hurt; they need medical attention."

"Who are you?" Kane asked with disgust.

"Merlin, my lord – the acting physician. Please, let me tend to the injured."

"A physician? You are the king's manservant, are you not?" The noble sneered.

Arthur's voice boomed out, clear and strong. "Merlin has worked as Gaius' apprentice for a number of years. Our senior physician is at the forefront of medical advancement and has served the royal family for generations. Merlin has learnt from the best and is highly skilled in what he does."

At any other time Merlin would have glowed with pride at such praise, but this was not the occasion.

"I was looking forward to meeting you, Arthur Pendragon; to see if the reputation you have gained was true. I must admit to be being disappointed. What sort of sovereign has commoners as knights, takes a serving wench for a wife, and lets an uneducated peasant treat the sick?"

Arthur let out a snarl that was almost feral and was only prevented from launching himself at the noble by a whispered "no" and the firm grip of Guinevere around his arm.

"A physician?" Kane laughed. "Do you think me a fool? He's nothing, a nobody,  _caput mortuum."_

Merlin had always had an ear for languages and had read enough medical tomes to become knowledgeable in Latin. Kane had called him worthless. The insult stung and the rebuttal was almost instantaneous.

" _Precsimum genus inimicorum laudantes!"_

There was a stunned silence and, just as Merlin was about to translate, a small chuckle came from the back of the room. Geoffrey of Monmouth seemed so taken by the academic word play that he had temporarily forgotten the gravitas of the situation. The old man smiled to himself.

" _Flatterers are the worst type of enemies_  - Oh, very good, young man!" He slapped his chest in merriment.

Kane was livid. "How does a peasant like you know Latin?"

" _Doctus cum libro,"_  Merlin shot back, unable to hold his tongue.

Geoffrey snorted.  _"I read it in a book."_  The old man wiped tears from his eyes.

Masonry exploded and Merlin fell backwards trying to avoid the blast. He rolled onto his side and only just escaped the second shot.

"Stop!" Arthur shouted.

Kane paused, hand splayed and ready. He turned slowly towards the king.

"Please, he has nothing to do with this. Let him go and we can come to some arrangement."

Merlin saw Kane face the king, putting the monarch's life in the firing line once again – he had to stop it. He clambered to his feet and staggered further into the room.

"No! This is wrong. Where is the honour in injuring innocent people? You stole something that does not belong to you and twisted it beyond recognition for your own dark purpose."

A blast of light was directed at Merlin and he crashed to his knees, barely able to dart away from the assault. The warlock crawled on his belly, but still managed to croak out some insults.

"You have no understanding of the powers you are playing with or the damage you will cause - "

A chair exploded close to the servant's head, but Merlin did not stop - whilst Kane's attention was on him it wasn't on Arthur.

Merlin wiped some dust away from his mouth and nose, leaving a smear of crimson across his cheek, and continued.

"Magic is a force that can't be contained -"

Dust and sparks flew up as a bolt hit the floor inches from him.

Arthur scrambled to his feet, transfixed for a moment as Merlin proceeded to goad the noble. Years of target practice for the knights meant the servant was dodging everything Kane was throwing at him but he was tiring, movements becoming sluggish - soon the inevitable would happen.

Merlin screamed as masonry hit his leg, tearing the fabric of his trousers and pinning him in place. Kane let out a maniacal laugh and rounded on his pray.

Merlin stared, blood dripping from his nose.

"You're just a coward hiding behind something that's not yours," the warlock yelled, defiant above the noise and Gwen's pleas for mercy.

Arthur used the distraction to throw himself at Kane, but it was too late.

He knew the bolt would hit Merlin square in the chest, knew it before he saw it happen.

Time seemed to slow. Merlin instinctively brought up his arms but nothing could stop the flare. Blue light shot from Kane's hand, lifting Merlin off his feet and smacking him into the wall across the hall.

Arthur stared in horror at the wide eyes of his best friend as he sailed through the air. It was all over. They'd lost.

* * *

TBC...

_So anyone predict that?_

I never studied Latin. I'm familiar with some terms from medicine and anatomy but all these were taken from a book;  _'Say it in Latin! 1000 useful phrases for every occasion'. Ed Eugene Ehrlich, 1995._

**Caput mortuum,**  worthless residue, literal translation is 'death's head', a skull. The term was used by alchemists to designate the residue in a flask after distillation was complete. Can now be taken as any worthless residue or a useless person.

**Precsimum genus inimicorum laudantes,** Flatterers are the worst type of enemies.

**Doctus cum libro,** I read it in a book. (Spot the Game of Thrones reference!)

 


	10. Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kane get more than he bargains for when he attacks Merlin.

Chapter 10 Phoenix

Merlin did not expect the last images burnt onto his retinas to be the wide eyes and feral grin of a mad noble and the almost comical look of horror from his king. His gift had pushed mercilessly against the band throughout the fight, trying to come to his aid, but it was useless. It was over.

The prickle of magic and a rush of air hit his face moments before the blast would. His arms shot up in defence, braced for impact. If he had to die, he'd rather it be by his own magic - so at the last instant he willed it to break free.

The full might of Kane's bolt struck.

The metal cuff did not stand a chance. The combined power of Kane's stolen force and Merlin's magic striving for release wrenched the manacle apart.

The dam broke, unleashing pressure so immense Merlin was taken off his feet and thrown through the air. Golden light poured out of him like a human star, blinding everyone in the room. The force was so strong it swept up all those still standing, pressing them against the wall. Merlin was the eye of the storm, total chaos and devastation swirling around him.

The liberation of his gift was euphoric, but it wouldn't last. The magic only had one place to go - the Saxum Veritas.

The stone and warlock converged in the centre of the room only a few feet apart, pulled together like magnets. The crystal spun like the needle on a compass until it pointed directly at Merlin. The air crackled, fizzed, and swirled as the free magic gathered momentum and pulsed with life. Anyone witnessing the sight could do nothing but marvel at the wild power and beauty of it. Molten gold organised itself, forming a fluid column that fed directly into the truth stone.

Merlin had crashed to the floor, dazed. A forceful tug on his gift brought him back to his senses with a start - he was being drained, his very life-force sucked out. It had to stop; Kane could not be allowed to control his power.

He could barely see and was totally disorientated, yet Arthur's presence provided a stronger pull than even the rock. Merlin turned towards his king, attempting to stand, eyes already blazing gold.

" **Gescildan!"**

An opaque barrier instantly sprang up, protecting the royals from Kane. The shield was like a dry waterfall reaching from floor to ceiling, a shimmering partition that would keep them from harm.

Merlin's legs buckled.

The magic gale kicked up dust and debris and the truth stone shone white with all the energy it had absorbed. The rock radiated power; it was like a beacon in darkness.

The atmosphere was charged, rippling over Kane and making the hairs on his skin stand on end –  _what could be done with such power_. He crawled on his hands and knees towards the gleaming rock, impatient to take what was rightfully his.

Sweat formed on Merlin's brow and his vision swam. With shaking arms he pushed onto his knees and directed his magic towards the stone. Holding out his hand he bellowed.

" **Eorthe, lyft, fyr, waeter, hiersumie me. Forbærnen Saxum Veritas."**

The warlock collapsed, unable to hold his own weight. He let out a sigh and watched the flames engulf the rock.

The pull on his magic did not ease. The flames died but the rock remained.  _Kilgharrah destroyed one - there must be a way._

" **Forbærne! Ácwele! Forbærne! Ácwele!"**

The energy only served to feed the stone. Fire surged, licking across the floor, catching the curtains and going up in a blaze of orange tongues.

Merlin was surrounded by a wall of flames and too weak to move. Smoke stung his eyes and the incredible heat scorched his skin and lungs. He was terrified; being burned alive was the nightmare that wrenched him from sleep, sweaty and screaming.

_No, not this! Anything but this._

The inferno raged on, reaching the walls and igniting all in its path. Fire began to devour the ceiling. It had to be extinguished before the whole building was consumed.

_I have to stop it._

" **Tídrénas!"**

Smoke became clouds and rain poured from the roof, dousing the blaze. The room began to clear as Merlin coughed and clawed at the floor. He bent on all fours and retched.

The rock was still there of course, unblemished and glowing. It winked and taunted him, an evil eye that grew ever brighter the weaker he got.

"You're nothing but a common sorcerer!" Kane screeched above the din.

Somehow the noble had made it across the room and was looming above him. Merlin smiled, slowly lifting his head to look Kane in the eye.

"I'm much more than that!"

The noble had no time to reply.

" **Ástrice"**

Kane flew back, bouncing off the shield and crashing to the floor.

Merlin never got to admire his handiwork. Exhausted, his head hit the floor in a wave of dizziness and the world went black.

He did not know how long he'd lain there but a piercing scream and the smell of singed flesh shook him awake. Kane had the stone.

The warlock squinted and covered his eyes. The rock was stuck to the noble's palm and his whole body began to glow. Jets shot from his fingers, sending Merlin careering across the room and into an upended table. Bolts hit the shield, breaking through the barrier. Magic struck the wall and ceiling, forming great cracks in the structure and destabilising the whole building.

Kane's scream was endless. He was pinned, arms outstretched, balls of fire shooting from his fingers with no control or direction.

Merlin watched in horror as the room burned and the building began to fall.  _This can't happen! I won't let it!_

Only one thing had ever been impervious to his magic - it was his last shot.

" **Rǽdan ásce géatan, gicel gelíce dorocha hiersumie me. Ic Saxum Veritas tobrytan."**

The effect was instantaneous; the air stilled, ice crystals formed and fanned out from the warlock like petals on a flower. Frost swept along all surfaces, halting the flames, shoring up the cracked walls, creating a blanket of white that covered everything.

The ice converged on Kane; he could do nothing but watch its approach. It rooted him to the spot like a tree, travelling up his limbs and toward his hand. The haemorrhaging magic sparked and faltered as a layer of ice encased the stone and extinguished all light and noise.

Everything was frozen and silent. Great stalactites hung from the ceiling and spears rose from the floor - as if winter had claimed the room for itself.

Fine cracks formed in the ice shell, running together until a faint rumble became a deafening roar. The rock shattered.

Shards of crystal exploded and hailed down, followed by a wave of immense power and a blaze of colour and sound.

Merlin covered his head with his hands, curling into a ball as the room began to disintegrate. Chunks of masonry fell, great chasms opened up in the floor, and the chandelier gave an ominous creak.

He was so tired; unable to stand, he rolled onto his back and looked up at the devastation. Kane was defeated, the truth stone destroyed, but to what end? If the room collapsed, king and castle wouldn't be far behind.

Magic danced on his skin, giving him gooseflesh. It sang, calling to its master, begging to be tamed and harnessed; it was intoxicating. The warlock welcomed his birthright and power surged through weakened limbs, his gift finally free to flow through him and burn behind his eyes. Words formed on his lips without conscious control, just following his desire for Arthur to be safe and for it all to be over.

" **Gehæle. Þurhhæle. Burgbót, feormian dærst rénian."**

* * *

It shouldn't hurt - but it did. Merlin was exhausted and cold, a constant ache attacked his joints and muscles, and there was a dull throbbing behind his eyes.

The surface beneath him undulated, like being rocked on water -  _Am I going to Avalon? Will they set me alight?_  Even now he had no desire to burn, but he was too tired and it pained him to think.

"Merlin!"

_Let me be; let me sleep._

"MERLIN! It's not safe!"

_Go away! Can't I even die in peace?_

"MERLIN! You need to move!"

Pain shot through his shoulder as he was jerked forward.

_Arthur?_

He could not ignore that voice. Shifting, he attempted to speak.

"Arth-"

"Merlin! Thank the gods!"

The hug was so fierce it forced the air out his lungs.

"Arrg!"

The pressure ceased immediately and even though the light stung his eyes, Merlin tried to focus through the haze.

"... Merlin? Your...your..."

Arthur's face finally came into focus. Something was wrong. His eyes were wide, and in addition to the sky blue irises there were two golden suns… It was his own image reflected in the king's pupils: the traitorous yellow eyes of a sorcerer.

Merlin had no voice. He stared at his king with eyes that continued to burn as tears tracked down his cheeks.

The king was silent.

"Only... to protect…" he whispered, "only... for you."

Then fate intervened. The warlock was given what he'd previously wished for and now tried to fight – with a thumping heart and sweat on his brow, the abyss claimed him.

* * *

_TBC_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, theories?
> 
> Translations of spells:
> 
> "Gescildan" "Shield"
> 
> "Eorthe, lyft, fyr, waeter, hiersumie me. Forbærnen Saxum Veritas" "Earth, air, fire, water, obey me. Burn the truth stone."
> 
> "Forbærne! Ácwele! Forbærne! Ácwele !" "Burn up, destroy!"
> 
> "Tídrénas." "Timely rain"
> 
> "Ástrice!" "I strike!"
> 
> "Rǽdan ásce géatan, gicel gelíce dorocha hiersumie me. Ic Saxum Veritas tobrytan." "I ask for consent to control it, ice like the dorocha obey me. I Saxum Veritas break into pieces."
> 
> "Gehæle. Þurhhæle. Burgbót, feormian dærst rénian." "Heal thoroughly. Repair, clean and dispose of refuse"


	11. Waking up is so very hard to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin begins to wake up but hears something disturbing that makes him want to stay asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the penultimate chapter.

* * *

Chapter 11 Waking up is so very hard to do

_Day 16_

He tried to force his eyelids open, but they wouldn't budge. It was as if stones had been placed on them. The other senses were not quite so impaired; he could detect familiar sounds, aromas, and could feel his dry throat and the excess heat from his skin. He was aware of movement around him but was unable interact, could not will his muscles to work.

Locked in a body that would not respond, he had no concept of the passage of time. The only thing he was sure of was his magic. It was finally free to pulse and swirl, no longer contained. Unfortunately, access to his gift did not bring the comfort it should have; thinking about it made his gut twist - the pain sharp and visceral.

Merlin did not want to wake up. He was safer where he was; he did not have to answer to anyone or face his king - but he couldn't hide forever.

He'd listened to snippets of conversation and the words he'd heard cut, causing a wound that refused to heal. There was no escape - he could not pretend they had not been said.

" _Do what you can, Gaius; I need to question him. Don't go to any trouble; if he dies, sobeit."_

" _I fear it may be too late, Sire; he is beyond my help – it is up to the gods."_

It was the cold indifference that stung. He'd always known if Arthur discovered his secret the betrayal would hurt and anger would undoubtedly follow. However, the reality of the reaction was difficult to bear.

As the years passed, he'd become convinced that Arthur would come around.  _Why choose the pain of the cuff over a confession if you trusted him? Is this really such a surprise?_ His inner voice mocked.

The Once and Future King was destined to rule with Emrys - that's what he'd been told - so ultimately Arthur would have to accept magic, wouldn't he? Merlin wanted to believe but his faith in that dream had been shattered, the pointed shards cutting into his heart and causing as much damage as a physical blade would have done.

He could not deny the inevitable; he would have to speak to Arthur. Just like that, the weight disappeared from his eyes and he was free to open them - even if he did not want to.

The room was as it always had been, no indication of anything wrong. He sensed movement, heard the rustle of fabric, the clink of glass, and knew Gaius was nearby. He hoped the physician would stay; he did not want to be alone.

"Gaius?" He croaked.

Air was promptly displaced and warm, gnarled hands grasped his firmly. The old man did not say anything, just gripped tighter and smiled. His eyes were moist and he looked away briefly and then focused his gaze upon his ward once more, shaking his head as if he could not believe the sight before him.

"The knights, Gwaine?" Merlin began, attempting to sit up and struggling to look around. The action made him dizzy and Gaius halted any further movement with a firm palm to the chest.

"They are well; a few superficial breaks but mainly sprains, bruises, and cuts. It only took a couple of days for them to be on their feet - may take a while longer before they're up to training."

The warlock scrunched up his face in confusion. "Days?"

"You were gone for quite a while, my boy," Gaius's hand carded through his ward's damp hair. "We didn't know if you would make it back to the land of the living."

The physician sighed. "Arthur has been here daily, just waiting for you to wake up."

_Arthur._ He wasn't ready. A wave of panic hit, his heart rate soared as he fumbled trying to push the blanket back and climb out of bed. His limbs refused to cooperate, his head spun and black spots clouded his vision.

"Merlin!"

Gaius grabbed his ward's shoulders, easing him down. The physician lifted the end of the bed up, pushing a large tome underneath with his foot so the frame was tilted.

"Better?"

"U-huh." He waited a moment for his head to clear. "I need to get away, I -"

"Merlin, you're not going anywhere. Your gift may have helped with minor burns and lacerations, but you're anaemic and have sustained significant muscle atrophy. No amount of magic can resolve those conditions; your body will take time to heal."

The physician shook his head, exasperated. "It's taken years to put meat on your bones. I leave for less than three weeks and -"

The discussion was interrupted by the sound of the door banging and the king's voice.

"Gaius?"

"In here, Sire."

"Any change?"

The physician turned away from his patient, moving towards the entrance of Merlin's room and addressed the royal.

"Merlin's awake."

Footsteps could be heard moving swiftly.

"When?"

"Only moments ago, Your Highness."

"I need to speak to him."

The physician nodded. "Sire."

Merlin's throat constricted as his mentor moved away, he silently begged him to come back but the empty space was already replaced by a familiar and imposing silhouette.

Arthur walked into the room, back stiff and head held high.

The servant pressed himself into the bed, trying to disappear, but even his near-skeletal frame was clearly visible.

The king's gaze roamed over Merlin's form, his face impassive. When their eyes met he gave a small nod and sat down on a wooden stool.

Nothing was said.

Arthur sat with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands wrung together. He seemed tired and troubled. He looked up as if he were finally about to speak but when blue met blue the king's head dropped and he went back to studying his hands.

Merlin couldn't stand it; he'd rather endure the king's wrath than have him say nothing at all.

"You are well, Sire?" He ventured tentatively, voice strained with disuse.

The monarch's head lifted instantly; he assessed the younger man with wide eyes.

"Yes, quite well. Thank you." He replied hesitantly.

"Your shoulder?" The servant pushed.

Arthur gave the offending joint an involuntary roll. "All healed; no ill-effects," the monarch paused, "and you, Merlin?"

The familiar fallback phrase 'I'm fine' was on his lips but he couldn't form the words. Physically he certainly wasn't, although that had never stopped him before. He just couldn't say it. He didn't know where they stood anymore; friends, just servant and master, or enemies?

"I don't know – everything is kind of numb." He managed eventually.

"Gaius' potions will do that to a man." Arthur's mouth quirked.

Merlin remained silent.

The Royal let out a sigh. "I used to envy you, Merlin; did you know that? You were a free man, had none of the restraints or expectations of a royal... On the day I came of age you told me I was a servant to my people, and you were right." Arthur forced a small smile. "I have to put them first - their well being above my own - to always do whatever is best for the kingdom."

The dark-haired man did not know what to say.  _Where is this leading; is he going to confront me? Is this a game?_ Arthur Pendragon does not play games; he's honest and honourable -  _I should be too._

Merlin could not prevent the slight waver of his voice but he was determined to tell the truth. "You are a good king, Arthur. I know you'll always try and do the right thing."

The royal made his hands into fists, then released them, speaking in a rush.

"Gaius told me, Merlin. He explained everything when he got back." There, he'd finally said it.

All colour drained from the servant's face. "He did?"

"Yes. I know it was not your fault – that you had no choice about the magic." He watched the younger man's expression intently.

Merlin's chest heaved, he could not process what he'd heard. He was the one who should have told Arthur, now he felt vulnerable and exposed; they should be having this conversation face to face, not with him laid on his back and incapable of moving.

His heart pounded and he suddenly realised Arthur had started speaking again.

"Gaius told me that, when Kane hit you with that bolt, some of the magic from the stone was temporarily transferred and that you could use it in the same way as Kane." Arthur looked expectant.

Merlin could do nothing but stare back, totally dumbfounded.

_Trust Gaius to come up with something like that - and for Arthur to accept it._

"Only you did not use it like him; did you, Merlin?"

The servant merely shook his head slowly in agreement, watching the royal's reaction closely.

_He doesn't believe Gaius?_

"That wall, the shield – that was you?"

There was no point in denying it, he gave a small nod. "Kane would have destroyed everything. He would have killed you, Arthur; he was beyond reason."

"You idiot! We should have been on the same side of the barrier!"

Merlin's eyes glazed over a bit and he shook his head, trying to sit up. "I had to stop him; I couldn't let him have the stone – to abuse all that power, to twist it and -"

Firm hands grasped his shoulders.

"Merlin, it's alright. It's over." He shook the younger man gently, looking directly into his eyes. "The stone's destroyed. All the magic has gone; you're back."

The king released his grip, guiding the invalid down onto the pillows.

"Kane can't hurt anyone now. I doubt he will be doing much of anything anymore."

"What do you mean?" Merlin's heart plummeted to new depths - he'd thought the noble had perished.  _If Kane's alive, he'll tell._

Arthur sighed, rubbing his face. "Gaius describes it as a catatonic state - he's alive but damaged. His body was never meant to have magic; it was too strong and did something to his brain… he's not responding to anything, probably never will." The king looked at the servant. "When you did not wake up... I thought maybe..."

Arthur looked away for a moment, not wanting to imagine the previously vibrant man before him as a lifeless shell. Instead, he did what he always had when dealing with something uncomfortable; he deflected.

"I guess there are some advantages to having an empty head to start with." Arthur turned towards Merlin, affectionately tapping his skull.

"Takes one to know one," the servant huffed, swiping the blond man away.

The tension had eased, making Merlin feel bold for the first time since the conversation began. "You said I'm very skilled at what I do."

"Merlin, a mad man was about to blast your head off - I had to say something." Arthur replied in mock indignation but soon sobered and added. "Geoffrey thought your command of Latin was excellent – not as polished as a king's, of course - but impressive."

"Impressive?" The servant smirked.

"For a peasant."

"I know my place, Sire," Merlin quipped, shoulders sagging.

"You do?" The royal raised an eyebrow.

"Always." His face grew serious. "Right at your side."

Arthur stilled, overcome by the loyalty of his servant. He nodded. "What you did... it was incredibly brave." The royal shook his head. "It was beyond stupid to goad the man like that; what were you thinking? You could have been killed!" The monarch's voice had gone up an octave and he was breathing hard. His expression softened. "Your actions saved the kingdom, Merlin…" he gave a little cough, "I'm proud of you."

The man in question shifted uncomfortably, studying the ceiling. "Thanks."

Normally Merlin would have teased Arthur mercilessly, but it did not feel right - Arthur still did not know who he was. The thought stung.

The king seemed to have no such trouble. "When you're feeling better, you can help clear up the mess you made."

"Gaius said that could take a while."

"Not to worry, there is plenty of time - it will be months before we can use the council chambers."

Merlin thought back to the devastated room that had been collapsing around him and suddenly wondered how they had not been crushed. How was the castle still standing?

There was an awkward silence but Merlin's head was still reeling so he didn't want to start another tricky conversation. For once things went his way and the king seemed as if he was getting ready to leave.

Arthur's buttocks parted company with the stool and he began to straighten, but paused and sat down again.

"What was it like?" His voice was quiet, barely audible.

The invalid looked quizzical.

"Magic; what was it like to have magic?"

The servant took a deep breath; what could he say? His gift formed such an integral part of him - this was a chance to convey the majesty of it all, that magic itself was pure.  _What would Arthur make of that?_  In the end he opted for an acceptable truth.

"Scary." The servant picked at his fingers and spoke slowly and methodically. "It's a big responsibility; people depending on me, having to make the right decisions, keeping control, not getting angry. The things I ca - could do... you've seen what happens when hate takes over; what if that happened to me?" Merlin's eyes were like saucers, then he became reflective. "It's beautiful too; the ability to heal, to protect... that's what I try-tried to do."

Arthur's face was neutral and the silence stretched on until it was almost unbearable.

"What would you have done if it had been permanent?" Merlin asked in a small voice.

The royal froze, then rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know… it's complicated." He pulled at his hair. "There's the law… but what sort of monarch would I be if I condemned you for something you could not help? You saved the kingdom, stopped a threat... That's something that should be rewarded, not punished."

He got up suddenly, striding over to the small window, and observed the people below. His shoulders tensed. "There are a lot of things to consider -"

The warlock let out a small cough, interrupting. "Just as well you don't have to, then." He turned his head towards the wall and bit down hard on his lip.

The two men stayed like that for a while, neither knowing what to say. Arthur broke the quiet.

"And now... to be without it?

_What is he asking?_  It couldn't be switched off or ignored - not for him. To be separated from his gift had been intolerable, like having his soul ripped apart. Arthur was trying so hard and it pained Merlin that yet again he could not be completely honest.

"Some people are not meant to have such power." He swallowed and forced out the next sentence, hoping the royal would not notice the buildup of moisture in the corner of his eyes or the roughness of his voice. "There is no place for magic in Camelot." He shrugged and gave a sad smile, finding the bedclothes very interesting.

Arthur nodded, clearing his throat.

"I'm glad you're back, Merlin. You look tired; get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"No, Merlin, you're not," the king stood, patting his servant's shoulder, "but you will be."

He turned swiftly and exited the room.

The king left behind a bewildered warlock who did not know whether to laugh or cry. He should be grateful that Arthur had fallen for Gaius' elaborate tale but he wasn't. He knew the physician did it to protect him but he was weary now, tired of all the lies.

Everything was returning to normal, he was still a servant but would he ever move on like his friends? Would things ever change? These thoughts would continue to plague him and keep him awake at night, but right now he was so exhausted nothing would stop the dark vale of sleep taking him.

* * *

Arthur stepped outside the physician's chambers and took a deep and shaky breath. Cradling his head in his hands, he let himself slide down the wall.

It was the hardest conversation he'd ever had; it had confirmed all his suspicions - where there'd been doubt now there was certainty. Merlin was much more intelligent and cunning then people gave him credit for. He was loyal, completely selfless, and the bravest person Arthur knew, but when would the man he called his only true friend have the courage to tell the king he was a sorcerer?

His servant had magic; there was no denying the evidence. The king had meant to confront him - to ask how long - only, when he saw the terror and pain on his face, he couldn't go through with it. It occurred to Arthur that he was just as much of a coward as Merlin.

The royal thought back to that day in the throne room:

Kane was going to kill his servant, of that he was sure. When the bolt hit, Merlin shot across the room in an explosion of light and noise. Total chaos ensued, Arthur could neither see nor stand but he instinctively knew Merlin lived. Suddenly it all stopped and out of nowhere a giant barrier erupted, separating them from Merlin and Kane.

The king, a trained warrior, was stuck behind a blasted shield whilst Merlin was left alone with Kane. Guinevere went to get reinforcements as he pounded against the wall. Muffled cries, tremors, and flashes of colour were all that penetrated until cracks appeared and the barrier was breached. Magic broke through, creating huge craters, then another explosion shattered the shield completely.

The room was transformed, covered in ice crystals and debris, cracks in the ceiling and holes in the floor. Merlin was lying limp on the ground and muttering, Kane unmoving. There was no sign of the rock but the air fizzed and popped, alive with magic.

The room could collapse at any moment but Arthur's only concern was for his servant. He ran, feet skidding on frost and broken glass. Merlin was now completely still. Arthur dropped to his knees and cradled Merlin in his arms, he rocked and shouted trying to get the unresponsive man to wake.

Merlin was a mess, his clothes torn and blackened with a mixture of dried blood and soot. Dust clung to his hair and face, but a loud crash signalled there was no time to remove it. The chandelier lurched, swinging precariously above them, then more fissures appeared in the walls and floor. They needed to get out.

He shook the servant's shoulders until he grunted and tried to speak. Arthur was delighted, but the joy died as the servant slowly turned his head and opened his eyes. Merlin's irises glowed gold.

His servant stared at him, tears tracking down his cheeks making channels in the dirt. "Only to protect…only for you..." he whispered. Then his head lolled to the side, eyes falling shut, body boneless.

Light continued to radiate from under his lashes and a familiar ball of energy formed in the palm of the unconscious man's hand. Time seemed to still, then work in reverse. A wave of warmth washed through the king, taking away the sting in his shoulder. Arthur watched in awe as the collapsing room transformed; cracks in the walls becoming smaller until there were only scars. The ice disappeared, the craters in the floor closed over, and the unconscious guards and knights began to murmur and stir.

The air cleared, magic dissipating until all traces were gone. The royal looked around, stunned. The room was still wrecked, but safe and sure. Miraculously there were no major casualties bar Merlin and Kane. Arthur couldn't care less about the noble. He wanted to question him, but if he died sobeit.

Shouts heralded the arrival of reinforcements. Guinevere stood serene amongst wreckage and Geoffrey popped up from behind the fallen furniture. Gwaine staggered to his feet nursing his head and most of the guards and fallen knights also started to move. They approached their king and he had no idea what he was going to say.

That had been five days ago. Plenty of time to mull it all over.

The king of Camelot was no stranger to magic, he'd felt the devastation and pain it could cause but he'd never seen it as a tangible force. This time he'd witnessed magic taking form and being harnessed like an element. Kane had extracted the raw energy seeking only to control and destroy; Merlin used it to protect. Such opposing results, dependent only on the will of the person manipulating it.

To Uther magic was a poison, an evil that would twist and corrupt. Even Arthur had believed magic destroyed Morgana but he was wrong - it was the power it brought that caused her to change beyond recognition. Kane sought revenge by any means possible; the manipulation of magic was an opportunity, not the cause. The rock was just a conduit and now it was destroyed along with the man that had tried to control it.

The attack on the royals and Kane's use of the stone had been witnessed by many; fewer had seen Merlin rush blindly in trying to distract the noble, but most of the court now knew the story and the outcome. As to the details… Geoffrey claimed he could not remember much since he'd lost his glasses in the explosion and had been pinned behind a table. Guinevere agreed that it had been difficult to see anything but she felt certain an explanation would be forthcoming if Merlin recovered.

Arthur was the only one who had seen Merlin's yellow eyes, the only one who knew the truth.

The royal had been shocked and angry at first but on seeing his servant so helpless and damaged, so cold and lifeless… Arthur couldn't let him go, no matter what he was.

They'd tried to keep Merlin warm with blankets, placing him by the hearth, but it did not work - all the fires went out as soon as they were lit. It pained Arthur to think he might lose Merlin without knowing the truth. Eventually some warmth and colour crept into his servant's broken body and Arthur felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders.

Gaius had returned within a day and, once his patients were stable, the physician listened impassively to all that had occurred. Then, as always, had provided a plausible explanation as to why Merlin had been able to use magic. It should have been the perfect excuse to turn a blind eye, the answer to all Arthur's problems, but this time he just couldn't believe it.

He'd already gone over the events and there was no way around it; Kane had just blasted anything in sight, Merlin had manipulated the elements with a skill that only came from time and practice. How many other stories of seemingly inexplicable feats were mere fantasies and really the work of his manservant, the secret sorcerer?

There was so much he needed to find out, but it would have to wait - evidently it had waited the entire duration of their acquaintance so what was a bit longer? In truth, Arthur could not get his head around it and if the royal did not admit he knew he did not have to deal with the consequences straight away. The last few days had proven the people of Camelot were not ready for magic; he himself had failed to confront his servant and Merlin was unable to share his secret with his king. Arthur needed time - they all did.

The royal heard footsteps. He hauled himself up, joints protesting; he'd sat far longer than intended.

Gwaine rounded the corner, looking flustered and concealing something in his hand.

"Merlin's awake?"

"He was – he's asleep now."

"Maybe I'll go in and wait." The knight tried to manoeuvre past the king but an arm barred his way.

"What's that?" Arthur demanded.

"What?"

"That!" He pointed at Gwaine's hand.

The knight flicked his hair and shrugged. "Nothing important."

"Let me see."

Gwaine was reluctant. "It was just something we found in the great hall during the renovations; I wanted to ask Gaius about it." He did not add that he wanted to discuss it with Merlin - that there was much he needed to talk to his friend about.

Arthur grasped the mangled piece of metal, studying it. He knew exactly what it was, but wouldn't tell Gwaine.

"Gaius is not there and this," he waved the distorted cuff in the air, "probably belonged to Kane. I'll get rid of it, no need to bother Gaius." He pocketed the artefact.

The knight looked affronted. "Still, I'd like to see Merlin when he wakes up." Gwaine removed the king's arm and edged into the room. Faint snoring could be heard as he opened the door and crept inside.

The king studied the mangled metal. When he was a boy, Uther had taken him down into the vaults to show him the manacle. He'd been told how special it was, something that would cut an evil sorcerer off from their power. It was to be reserved for the strongest, as even they could not stand it for more than a few hours - begging for mercy and clawing at their own flesh, such was the pain it caused. Uther had believed it was a wonderful device and their distress only demonstrated the true nature of magic.

Arthur punched the wall.  _You stupid, stubborn fool, Merlin. Why could you not tell me?_  It all made sense; it was Merlin who had set off the truth stone, then gone to extreme measures to suppress his magic. The cuff must have caused all the strange behaviour, not to mention the ring of excoriated skin on his forearm.

_Had Kane only released Merlin's magic when he attacked him?_  Judging by the explosion and the state of the manacle it would appear so.

Arthur pulled at his hair in frustration; things could not go on this way. He'd always known there was something strange and unworldly about Merlin and now he knew what it was. His friend did not have enough faith in him to tell the truth and that hurt more than he wanted to admit.

He'd thought he was building a better Camelot, one of equality and peace, but all the mistrust and hysteria within his kingdom had to change. It would be a slow process. He would give Merlin six months to tell the truth and in that time he would try and make Merlin confide in him by being the sort of king Merlin had always told him he could be.

The Once and Future King cracked his back, making his way up to the bed chamber he shared with Guinevere. She would help him with this journey, but tonight he would sleep knowing tomorrow would herald the beginning of a new outlook for him and his people.

* * *

_TBC..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed that, hope it was the outcome you were looking for! Let me know what you think.
> 
> There is an epilogue to follow, which should tie up all the loose ends!


	12. Epilogue: A Sorcerer in Servant's Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin puts the events of the last 6 months behind him and tries to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter.

Chapter 12 Epilogue: A Sorcerer in Servant's Clothing

_6 months later_

Merlin nudged his horse with his heels and looked around in awe. It was a simple hunting trip with Arthur and Gwaine - something he could easily sabotage later - but for now it was glorious.

Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees, highlighting a myriad of different colours and shades. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly to appreciate the warmth on his back and the scent of wild flowers and herbs. Nature had outdone herself.

A sharp pain exploded at the base of his skull. Merlin brought up his hand reflexively, swivelling in his saddle and giving Gwaine a pointed look. The knight raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the trees. Merlin sighed and shook his head, still rubbing his neck.

"That hurt!" He mouthed.

"Sorry!" Gwaine replied silently, accompanied by a shrug of his shoulders.

Gwaine knew of his magic now. The knight had taken it very well, enjoying being in on the secret - a tad too enthusiastically. If Merlin paused during a patrol the knight took it as some sort of signal and would start winking and wiggling his eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner – it was a wonder Arthur hadn't noticed.

Whilst Merlin was recovering from the incident with Kane, Gwaine had approached him about his scars, the cuff, and everything else. The warlock had been too exhausted to put up a fight and could not face lying anymore - so he had told him. After a stunned silence, the knight had thrown back his head and laughed. He had wrapped his arms tightly around the bemused servant, planted a kiss on the top of his head and ruffled his hair before laughing some more. Gwaine had called for a celebration of course, and for once Merlin had joined him - finally he did not have a secret to hide.

The following morning Gaius had poured a bucket of cold water over the slumbering knight, clipped his ear, and sent him on his way. The physician had then chastised the hungover warlock for sabotaging his own recovery with such a stupid act.

Consequently, Merlin had no clear recollection of exactly what he told the knight, although he had his suspicions.

Gwaine no longer tried to pair the servant off with every available woman he saw nor cajoled him into being cheerful when things got to be too much. If Merlin slinked off to the highest turret of the castle, Gwaine gave him space to be alone. Only if the warlock was gone for too long would the knight come and find him, sitting at his side with naught but a nudge and gentle squeeze to the shoulder before whispering "come on, or you'll be missed."

Merlin was broken from his thoughts by the dulcet tones of his king.

"Everything all right back there, Merlin? Not having another vacant episode or got one of your 'funny feelings' have you?"

The servant sighed. "Everything is fine, Sire."

Merlin could have left it there but couldn't help himself. "Thought you didn't believe in my intuition."

It seemed like Merlin would have the last word, then Arthur replied in a lazy tone.

"There is no denying prey animals are highly attuned to danger, so it's worth paying attention."

"Prey animals?" Merlin pulled on the reins of his horse, then folded his arms.

The king glanced over his shoulder. "Don't be so sensitive, Merlin." He turned back, trying to hide a smirk. "I'm merely saying you're either a predator or… well, Gwaine and I have superior strength, speed, and reflexes – typical hunters - whereas prey animals tend to be all long limbs, wide eyes, and big ears -"

Whump! A random branch smacked Arthur in the stomach.

"Are you alright, Sire? Did the fearsome predator just get attacked by one of those stationary trees?"

" _Merlin!"_ Yelled the king, but there was no heat in the words.

The dense vegetation soon swallowed up the raucous laughter. It was good to joke with Arthur again; for a time things had been a little strained between them but it was better now.

Merlin's body moved rhythmically with the horse as they continued the ride in silence. He let his mind drift back to all that had happened in the last six months.

The immediate aftermath of his battle with Kane was a bit of a blur; it had taken a few weeks for his magic to settle, to regain his strength and put on the weight he'd lost whilst wearing the manacle. Merlin gave an involuntary shudder, rubbing the raised pink band that scarred his forearm. It was a permanent reminder of all he'd been through; yet another mark to add to the ever-growing collection.

He'd woken up terrified his secret was laid bare; however, with Gaius' intervention, he'd gotten away with it yet again. But the victory was hollow; with each lie the cloak of deception got heavier and harder to wear. Merlin was so shaken from his near miss that it took a while before he felt comfortable using his magic around the king again; he was paranoid he'd slip up, but at the same time he almost wanted to.

The warlock had always hidden his injuries, not wanting to arouse suspicion or appear weak, but that was rather difficult this time. People treated him like a fragile bird; even Arthur seemed different - more careful. Merlin hated it. He rejoiced when the royal's temper resurfaced, welcoming the normality of it. Eventually the banter returned as well. That wasn't all that had changed; Arthur listened more now and sought his advice openly, even asking his views on Kane. He'd told the monarch fate had served its own punishment; Kane was not capable of standing trial and there was nothing to be gained from his execution.

When the king had addressed the citizens of Camelot, Merlin had been publicly thanked for his role in helping to save the kingdom. The people had been told Kane was a bigoted and bitter man. Hate and a lust for power were the impetus behind the attack, but use of a force he did not understand had ultimately resulted in his own destruction. Arthur had stressed that ignorance and prejudice were a poison that could destroy a kingdom, calling for tolerance and understanding so something like this would never happen again.

When announcing the sentence the royal had stated that the lord had already paid the price for his greed and should be pitied. No further action was warranted. There had been a little disappointment at the verdict; a good lynching brought spectators from the outlying villages, which had always been good for trade.

Arthur had been shocked at the shallow nature of the populace, especially when he heard complaints from vendors saying their takings had gone down since Uther had left the throne. He had vowed to give his people a positive reason to gather and, at Guinevere's suggestion, organised an open day once a month were there would be access to education and the poor could attend literacy lessons – the solution brought in the promised crowds and satisfied the masses.

Life returned to an even keel and Merlin resumed his double life. Then Kane woke up.

Merlin had panicked when Kane moved his limbs - it signalled a return of motor activity. The warlock had spent a restless week waiting for the noble to open his eyes, wondering if he would remember. It was the closest the servant had come to confessing all to Arthur, believing the truth would be better from his own tongue - but he couldn't do it.

Kane never recovered; he had severe cognitive impairment with expressive and receptive problems. At best he could follow two-word commands, vocalisation was limited to a few grunts, and he needed help with even the most basic of tasks. The noble had brought it on himself, of course, but it seemed to Merlin all who discovered his secret met with misfortune - save for his mother and Gaius. What if the knowledge was cursed? He'd even tried to warn Gwaine but the knight had just flicked his hair and shrugged, saying he'd take his chances. Still, the warlock had resolved to wait a little longer before he told his king.

The queen had tried to track down Kane's family to no avail. There was a woman who'd originated from the same area, was of appropriate age and profession, but she'd burnt at the stake for witchcraft and so was unlikely to have been the sister they were looking for. With nowhere to go, Kane had stayed in Camelot, working in the stables. Merlin could not find it in himself to hate the man and would read to him sometimes, occasionally choosing a passage in Latin - Kane seemed to like the lilt of the words despite no longer understanding them. The warlock had even toyed with the idea of trying to help but Gaius had forbidden any dabbling and Merlin had to concede he was probably right.

Merlin had received a mixed response to his heroics. Some thought the king's manservant had gotten above his station; there were rumours of misdeeds and sorcery and he endured the odd accident, shove, or kick. Merlin never said anything but Arthur always found out and reprimanded those involved.

Most were pleased for him; Geoffrey certainly seemed to have developed a soft spot for the servant. Instead of tutting when the gangly man knocked over a pile of books, the librarian would make a point of showing Merlin ancient texts or delight in the odd conversation in Latin.

Merlin felt lighter, the burden of destiny not as hard to bare. Gwaine knew about his gift and Arthur, on the whole, treated him with a lot more respect - even if he still had to dodge the odd goblet in the morning. The king seemed genuinely curious about all things mystical and magical, to the extent he was willing to finally try and build bridges with the druids. As promised, their community was no longer persecuted and the royal even set up a meeting with some of the druid elders.

All in all there was a feeling of hope; change was in the air. Merlin felt it in his bones as surely as the approach of spring - perhaps this meant his king was finally ready to learn the truth?

* * *

It happened too quickly. He heard the bolt rather than saw it, just managing to avoid the arrow before it lodged in a tree. More followed but, thanks to some magical intervention, all missed. The horses were spooked but the three companions managed to dismount and launch an offensive.

Merlin sensed four men and signalled to Gwaine. The knights took two bandits each and Merlin dropped a branch on one, heating the sword of another. Common thieves were no match for the mighty knights of Camelot; within minutes the grunts and clanging of metal died - the party of three victorious.

As they were celebrating, a man recovered enough to hurtle towards the royal. Arthur sidestepped the strike easily but tripped on a log, landing flat on his back and vulnerable. The thug snarled, lifting his blade. The pinned monarch's eyes widened in horror as silver bore down.

Merlin and Gwaine were on the other side of the clearing - too far away.

Instinct took over as magic rose like molten lava, erupting out of Merlin's palm and sending the attacker sailing through the air. He caught movement, and a second bandit followed the first.

The bodies bounced off the trees and lay lifeless on the ground. The silence was deadly.

_This is it;_ The moment he'd dreaded and simultaneously craved. Arthur had seen him use magic and no excuse could be pulled from the hat to explain Merlin's golden eyes or the flying thugs.

Gwaine pushed himself in front of the warlock.

Merlin gaped in shock as Arthur picked himself up and quietly dusted the debris from his clothes. Not once did the royal break eye contact. He marched towards the two men.

The rogue knight placed a hand against Arthur's chest. "His magic saved your life."

Arthur merely clasped Gwaine's fist in his own and lowered the limb. "I know."

He pushed past the stunned knight.

"I've known for some time."

The king reached his servant, then did something the dark-haired man was totally unprepared for: Arthur embraced him and patted his back.

"It's about time."

Merlin found it hard to breathe. Black spots danced in his eyes and his knees buckled. Gwaine grabbed him and between the two knights they steered a very shaken warlock toward the ground.

Merlin looked up, wide-eyed. "You knew?"

Arthur nodded.

"How long?"

"Since Kane."

A loud whistle could be heard and Gwaine kicked a stone into the undergrowth. "Son of..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"I don't, I… I..."

Arthur put his hands on his friend's shoulders, looking directly into his eyes. "I was not ready and neither were you."

Merlin blinked slowly and nodded, his head swam and he swayed dangerously.

"Here," a water-skin was thrust under the servant's nose and he was so dazed he needed assistance to drink from it.

"If I'd known I'd have gotten this reaction, I would have told you I knew months ago." The king said a little hesitantly, "I've been trying to think of a way to shut you up for years."

"Glad I could be of service, Sire." Merlin replied automatically.

It was not up to their usual calibre, but it was all either man could manage given the circumstances.

The warlock could not process what had just happened. He'd waited his whole life for this moment. Either his dreams were plagued with horrifying scenarios or he'd spend endless nights awake thinking of how he would convince Arthur his magic was a gift only to be used to protect and serve. Finally the time had come to reveal his secret and Arthur already knew, already accepted him – he just couldn't get his head around it.

A wave of magic welled up inside and he could not help but chuckle; he laughed until tears rolled down his face and he beat his fists into the grown.

Arthur eyed his servant; this was not the response he'd expected. He turned toward Gwaine.

"It was water in that skin, wasn't it?"

"Of course."

It was obvious Merlin was in shock and would not be capable of answering any of Arthur's questions. The disappointment was crushing - the king had been uncharacteristically patient the last few months and now he still had to wait.

Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Give him time; he's been hiding all his life."

The royal spun around. "I take it you knew?"

Arthur had not meant to sound terse but it hurt more than he cared to admit that the knight had been told before him.

"Naturally."

The royal stormed off towards the edge of the clearing to get some kindling - since Merlin clearly was not capable of setting up camp. When he returned he snapped the wood with more force than necessary before throwing it onto the ground.

"How long?"

Gwaine sighed. "After Kane - pretty much the same as you."

"He told you?"

Gwaine looked over at Merlin; the warlock was still in a world of his own.

"I challenged him; he was exhausted and did not deny it. I don't think he would have said anything otherwise." Gwaine rubbed his beard and looked a little sheepish. "I also gave him mead, which may have loosened his tongue further."

Arthur frowned.

Gwaine put his hands on his hips and kicked at the ground before looking up. "He's had a tough time. You have to understand; he's loyal to you above and beyond everything."

The king's expression softened. "I know."

The other knight snorted. "Do you really? Because your reaction, your respect, it means everything to him. Some of the sacrifices..." Gwaine shook his head, it was not his place to tell.

Arthur jabbed his finger into the other man's chest and snapped.

"I'm not my father, Gwaine! I don't make a habit of burning sorcerers. I've known for six months and in that time have I ever behaved differently towards Merlin, shown any indication I would cause him harm?"

The king stepped away, breathing hard. Did everyone see him as some sort of tyrant?

Gwaine held up his hands. "Slow down; I didn't say that. You're a good king, Arthur, it's why I swore allegiance, but you can't deny your mistrust of magic or some of the things you've said in the past."

Arthur let his arms flop down to his sides, deflated.

"It was what I experienced – all my life magic caused nothing but pain and loss. Then, I discover Merlin has it!" Arthur shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "It was not easy to come to terms with. But what happened with Kane, it made me think about things differently. I saw it – I saw magic, felt it even; it became a tangible force."

Arthur could not deny he had been a complete mess those first few days after discovering Merlin had magic - more so when he became certain his servant possessed it. The royal had experienced anger, frustration, resentment, and melancholy all at the same time. Thankfully the throne room was being rebuilt at the time and all the recent trauma could easily explain his moods. Merlin had been recuperating and a little out of it, which was just as well because he had not been sure how to behave around the man anymore.

On one occasion Arthur had gone to check on Merlin and found him in the throes of a nightmare. The servant had been drenched in sweat and thrashing around on the narrow cot, begging not to be burnt. The king had cooled fevered flesh and whispered he'd never do such a thing, staying until the dark-haired man calmed. He'd never told anyone what he'd seen but the memory of it woke him from time to time.

It felt wrong to tease someone who was obviously intelligent and powerful, and he could not help but be a bit uneasy. He had searched repeatedly for signs his friend was different but could not find anything new. When Merlin had returned to work he continued to be a clumsy oaf who often did idiotic things so the royal eventually felt justified in calling him such.

There had been times he felt Merlin was on the cusp of telling him but the servant always seemed to lose his resolve no matter how much Arthur tried to goad him. Merlin kept tight control and it had struck Arthur there had been other occasions when his friend may have been trying to tell him something but he'd been too ignorant to realise until the moment had passed.

Arthur had been surprised to discover he could now feel Merlin's magic, could sense the hum in the air and a tingle against his skin. Having been exposed to it in such large quantities during the battle with Kane, Arthur was now attuned to it. When something strange happened - on a patrol or even something as simple as his quill going missing just after he'd insulted his servant - he knew who was responsible.

Every time Merlin used magic it seemed obvious - how could he have been so blind before? It was unique but familiar, warm and comforting - he recognised it as easily as a person's voice or gait. Did that mean Merlin already had magic when they first met? That it had always been there? It would certainly explain why a runt would challenged a seasoned warrior to a fight.

Gwaine said something and the king directed his attention back to the knight.

"He will tell you everything, I'm sure – just not today. Hell, I think I barely scratched the surface." The rugged man flicked his fringe and sighed. "He's revered by the druids, you know; they have a different name for him - Emrys."

Arthur froze. "Emrys?"

"Something like that."

It was the royal's turn to let out a hysterical laugh, bringing his hand to his face in disbelief.

Ever since he'd found out about Merlin he'd started researching the mysterious Emrys that Morgana had mentioned and his traitorous uncle had wanted to find so desperately. The powerful sorcerer whom his sister feared and who had allegedly been protecting him.

Unsurprisingly, Gaius had denied all knowledge. Geoffrey, sensing a change in Arthur's attitude, had uncovered some ancient manuscripts thought to have been destroyed during the purge. They contained a prophecy about the Once and Future King and Emrys.

He'd intended to ask Merlin about it when the time came, since it stood to reason he knew who this man was – Arthur never expected them to be the same person.  _Of course it would be Merlin; who else?_

The royal snorted at the absurdity of it all. Supposedly the most powerful magic-user to walk the earth and he had him washing his socks!

The king's behaviour seemed to have shaken Merlin out of his stupor. Arthur looked up to see Gwaine and his servant giving him wary glances. The blond knight recovered his composure and sat down next to his friend.

"It seems we have much to discuss."

Merlin nodded.

"I accept you, Merlin - and your magic. I don't want you to change."

The warlock made to interrupt but the king silenced him. He was determined to make Merlin realise he was safe.

"It will have to be a secret for now – the citizens of Camelot are not ready - but one day they will be. I was going to tell you when we got back, but now is as good a time as any. I think I have a way to sway the people."

Merlin eyed the king cautiously.

"One of the new recruits is very talented; he'll make an excellent knight." Arthur smiled and spoke quickly in his excitement. "Remember the boy Mordred? Think about it, Merlin, a Camelot knight who's also a druid!"

Ice struck the warlock's heart as if he'd been touched by the dorocha. All sound seemed to be sucked from the clearing and Merlin could see Arthur's animated face and wide grin dance silently in front of his eyes.

That's when he knew it was real, that the fantasy he'd been living for the past few minutes was actually happening - because that was his fate, wasn't it? Time and again to be handed hope and joy, grasp it tightly to his heart, only to see it ripped from his fingers and shatter.

Freya was killed by the man he'd sworn allegiance to; he'd met his father only to have the dragonlord die in his arms. Now, after all this time, Arthur finally accepts him, accepts magic, and cruel irony invites the man who is preordained to take his life to serve at his side.

This was the game the gods liked to play. He knew now, all his fears about Arthur and what he would think when he discovered all Merlin had done were nothing. Morgana and Mordred, destiny and doom, that was the real battle.

For once he felt ready; he would embrace his true self: he was Emrys, Arthur was his destiny, Albion was their future, and he was going to fight tooth and nail for it.

Merlin broke into a wide grin, then bowed his head solemnly. "To The Once And Future King."

Arthur froze for a moment then gave a bow in return. "Emrys."

They pulled together in a fierce hug then broke apart and started to laugh.

Gwaine knew he witnessed the beginning of something special; he could never have the unique bond that the other men shared, but he would be part of it. Courage, magic, and strength – that's what the dwarf had said, and it was good enough for him.

The rogue knight pulled a flask from his breast pocket.

"Now, if you two ladies are finished, I think there is some celebrating to be done!"

THE END.

* * *

_So, what did you think?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos and comments I really appreciate it so much and I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
> 
> I'm dyslexic so could not write anything without Caldera32 my wonderful beta, checking through my work.
> 
> I have a couple of stories that I've already posted on fanfic.net which I may try posting on here too. 
> 
> My next project is to finish Whispers, a modern reincarnation fic. I posted a teaser picture if anyone is interested.
> 
> Thanks again.


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